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lance 


PRESS  OF 

E.   R    CALLENDER   PRINTING   CO 
KANSAS  CITT,  KANSAS 


Forewor 


J 


BOOK  IS  AN  ATTEMPT  TO  GIVE 
A  BRIEF  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 
THE  MEN  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY 
NUMBER  139  DURING  THEIR  SERVICES  IN 
THE  GREAT  WAR.  IT  WAS  WRITTEN  BY 
THE  MEN  WHILE  THEY  WERE  AWAITING 
SAILING  ORDERS  FOR  HOME.  IN  BARN- 
LOFT  BILLETS  OF  THE  VILLAGE  OF 
AULNOIS-SOUS-VERT.UZEY.  FRANCE. 
WHILE  THE  MEMORIES  OF  OUR  EXPERI- 
ENCES WERE  STILL  FRESH  IN  OUR  MINDS. 


CONTENTS 


ORGANIZATION   OF   AMBULANCE   COMPANY    139 Page    5 

LIFE  AT  CAMP  HOEL _ _ "  6 

TRAINING  AT  CAMP  DONIPHAN _ "  8 

DEPARTURE  FROM  CAMP  DONIPHAN _ "  12 

THE  TRIP  ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC "  14 

OUR  FLYING  TRIP  THROUGH  ENGLAND "  18 

FROM  SOUTHAMPTON   TO   LE   HAVRE _ „ "  20 

OUR  TRIP  THROUGH  FRANCE  TO  ELOYES "  22 

IN  ACTION  ON  THE  WESSERLING  SECTOR _ .. "  25 

VENTRON  "  31 

LE  COLLET  „ _ _ "  32 

THE  MARCH  FROM  LUNEVILLE  TO  BENNEY "  37 

BENNEY  TO  FIVE  TRENCHES "  40 

FROM  FIVE  TRENCHES  TO  SENARD "  42 

MEUSE-ARGONNE    OFFENSIVE _ "  43 

WITH  THE  KITCHEN  IN  THE  ARGONNE  OFFENSIVE "  48 

CITATIONS  AND  CASUALTIES _ "  50 

THE  STAY  IN  VAUBECOURT _ "  52 

THE  VERDUN   FRONT "  53 

MOVE  TOWARD  METZ  AND  THE  ARMISTICE "  56 

THE  FIRST  REPLACEMENTS ~ "  59 

FURLOUGHS— GRENOBLE  "  62 

LA  BOURBOULE _ _ "  64 

THE  FURLOUGHS  AT  AIX-LES-BAINES "  67 

TRIP  TO  MARSEILLES "  68 

A  CASUAL  IN  THE  S.  O.  S "  71 

PERSHING  REVIEWS  THE  35th  DIVISION "  73 

FROM  COUSANCES  TO  AULNOIS "  74 

THE  HOME  GOING ~ "  75 

FROM  AULNOIS  TO  "CIVIES" —  "  76 

FICKLE  WOMEN  "  78 

COMPANY    ROSTER...                                    "  80 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


ORGANIZATION  OF  AMBULANCE 
COMPANY  139 

When  war  was  declared  on  Germany  April  5th,  1917,  the  gov- 
ernment sent  out  calls  for  volunteers.  The  auxiliary  organizations 
were  to  be  the  first  ones  to  go  across,  and  it  looked  as  if  ambulance 
companies  would  be  among  the  first  to  get  into  action.  Many  of 
the  universities  and  colleges  in  the  east  started  at  once  to  organize 
ambulance  companies.  These  companies  were  quickly  filled,  and 
the  enthusiasm  spread  quickly  to  the  west. 

Early  in  April  Dr.  Edwin  R.  Tenney  of  Kansas  City,  Kansas, 
was  appointed  by  the  adjutant  general  of  the  State  of  Kansas  to 
organize  a  national  guard  ambulance  company  in  that  city.  Until 
this  time  there  had  never  been  a  national  guard  ambulance  com- 
pany in  the  State  of  Kansas.  Dr.  Tenney  had  been  a  practicing 
physician  in  Kansas  City  for  a  number  of  years  and  before  coming 
to  the  city  he  served  as  a  physician  during  the  Spanish-American 
war.  For  the  past  five  years  he  had  held  a  lieutenant's  commission 
in  the  U.  S.  Army  Reserve  Corps.  It  was  through  his  efficient  work 
that  this  company  was  recruited  to  full  strength  within  a  month 
after  he  received  his  appointment. 

The  recruiting  office  in  the  press  room  at  the  city  hall  was  a 
very  busy  place  during  the  month  of  April.  Every  one  was  anxious 
to  join  some  branch  of  the  army.  By  April  25th  the  company  was 
recruited  to  its  full  strength  of  sixty-four  men  and  the  office  was 
closed.  However,  orders  were  received  the  next  day  to  recruit  the 
company  to  eighty-four  men,  so  again  the  office  was  opened  for 
business  with  a  sign  which  read,  "Join  a  motor  ambulance  com- 
pany and  ride"  It  was  in  this  office  that  so  many  of  the  men 
held  up  their  right  hand  and  said  that  fatal  "I  do/' 

About  this  time  Dr.  Richard  T.  Speck,  of  Kansas  City,  Kansas, 
received  a  lieutenant's  commission  in  the  Kansas  National  Guard 
and  was  assigned  to  this  company.  A  few  days  later  Drs.  A.  J. 
Bondurant,  of  St.  Margaret's  Hospital,  Kansas  City,  Kansas,  and 
A.  H.  Adamson,  of  the  General  Hospital,  Kansas  City,  Misouri,  also 
received  commissions  and  were  assigned  to  this  company. 

On  April  30th  Major  Seth  A.  Hammell,  of  Topeka,  Kansas, 
mustered  the  company  into  the  state  guard  as  Kansas  Ambulance 
Company  No.  2.  Another  ambulance  company,  known  as  Kansas 
Ambulance  Company  No.  1,  was  organized  by  Lieutenant  W.  L. 
Rhodes,  of  Argentine,  Kansas. 

After  the  state  muster  the  company  had  two  drill  nights  a 
week.  These  drills  often  interfered  with  some  of  the  men's  plans, 
but  that  made  no  difference  as  they  now  belonged  to  "Uncle  Sam" 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


and  duty  came  before  pleasure.  It  was  at  these  semi-weekly  drills 
that  the  men  learned  the  first  principles  of  soldiering  under  the 
leadership  of  Lieutenant  R.  T.  Speck  and  Sergeant  Roscoe  I-eady. 
They  were  unaccustomed  to  regular  drilling,  especially  on  paved 
streets,  and  many  times  they  went  home  with  sore  feet  from  doing 
"fours  right  and  left"  and  "to  the  rear,  march." 

On  June  14th  the  company  was  called  out  for  federal  inspection 
and  was  formally  recognized  by  the  federal  authorities.  This  was 
the  first  formation  in  which  every  one  was  present,  as  many  of  the 
men  lived  out  of  the  city  and  could  not  come  to  the  drills.  After 
this  inspection  the  men  were  told  to  be  ready  to  leave  at  any  time, 
as  it  wouldn't  be  over  two  weeks  at  the  most  before  they  would  be 
called  out.  The  days  dragged  slowly,  and  it  seemed  that  the  com- 
pany would  never  be  called  into  service.  The  men  were  all  anxious 
to  start  for  France  and  many  of  them  had  already  given  up  their 
positions,  thinking  that  it  would  be  but  a  short  time  until  they 
would  leave. 

On  Decoration  Day  the  company  was  ordered  out  for  a  special 
formation  to  march  to  the  cemetery  and  to  pay  tribute  to  the  heroes 
of  the  past.  However,  it  rained  so  hard  that  the  march  was  called 
off  and  instead  the  men  were  assembled  in  the  auditorium  of  the 
High  School  where  they  listened  to  an  address  by  J.  K.  Cubbison. 

For  a  number  of  years  it  had  been  customary  for  all  national 
guard  organizations  to  go  into  camp  on  the  night  of  July  3rd  and 
stay  until  the  4th,  when  they  would  put  on  an  exhibition  of  some 
kind.  Consequently  this  company,  together  with  Company  A,  First 
infantry,  K.  N.  G.,  and  Battery  E,  First  Field  Artillery,  K.  N.  G., 
went  into  camp  on  the  night  of  July  3rd  at  the  City  Park.  To  most  of 
the  men  this  was  their  first  experience  in  sleeping  on  the  ground, 
and  it  will  not  be  easily  forgotten,  for  the  next  day  found  every 
one  with  aching  bones.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  4th  the  men  of 
Company  A,  Infantry,  put  on  a  sham  battle,  and  this  company  fol- 
lowed them  up,  administering  first  aid  to  the  "wounded." 


LIFE  AT  CAMP  HOEL 

It  was  on  the  memorable  day  of  August  5th,  1917,  that  the 
members  of  Kansas  Ambulance  Company  No.  2  assembled  at  the 
corner  of  Ninth  and  Minnesota  Avenue,  Kansas  City,  Kansas.  As 
the  clock  struck  nine  the  order  "Fall  in"  was  given.  After  a  few 
army  formalities  the  company  was  marched  out  to  Camp  Hoel, 
which  was  situated  at  Twentieth  Street  and  Washington  Boulevard. 
It  was  a  spectacular  scene  for  the  outsiders  and  for  all  the  men 
in  the  company.  It  looked  more  like  a  parade  of  college  chaps 
before  a  football  game,  as  almost  all  of  the  fellows  were  dressed 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


in  their  "Sunday  best."  There  were  a  few  boys  dressed  in  the 
khaki,  which  gave  the  passerby  the  idea  that  we  were  a  part  of 
the  great  American  Army  which  was  being  formed.  When  we 
reached  camp  a  small  white  tent  was  pitched,  which  was  to  be 
our  office,  supply  room  and  a  place  of  shelter  for  those  boys  of 
the  company  who  did  not  live  in  the  city  or  who  were  not  staying 
at  the  homes  of  some  of  their  friends. 

Our  company  was  not  the  only  one  at  this  camp,  as  we  had 
neighbors,  who  were  later  designated  as  follows:  Company  A, 
137th  Infantry;  Companies  B  and  C  of  the  110th  Regiment  of  Engi- 
neers; Battery  E,  130th  Field  Artillery,  and  Ambulance  Company 
140  of  the  110th  Sanitary  Train.  The  majority  of  the  members 
of  these  organizations  were  Kansas  City  boys. 

In  a  few  days  the  drills  were  started.  Awkward  squads  were 
formed  and  from  all  parts  of  the  camp  the  command  of  "fours 
right,"  "to  the  rear,  march,"  etc.,  could  be  heard.  Hikes  were 
numerous,  and  it  was  not  long  until  our  feet  knew  all  the  bumps 
on  every  street  in  Kansas  City,  Kansas. 

The  mess  for  the  different  companies  at  Camp  Hoel  was  put 
in  charge  of  the  Central  Boarding  Company  of  Kansas  City,  Mis- 
souri. A  large  tent  was  erected  for  the  kitchen  and  it  was  there 
that  the  men  were  initiated  into  the  secrets  of  "kitchen  police." 

After  wearing  overalls,  blue  shirts  or  any  other  old  article 
that  was  obtainable,  the  company  was  greatly  shocked  one  morning 
when  the  news  came  that  part  of  our  equipment  had  arrived.  Here 
again  another  dream  was  shattered,  for  it  seemed  that  the  good 
fits  for  the  men  must  have  been  lost  in  transit.  The  large  fellows 
received  clothing  too  small  for  them,  and  the  small  fellows  received 
clothes  that  would  have  looked  well  if  they  had  had  about  fifty 
more  pounds  of  muscle  upon  their  skeletons.  But  as  a  matter  of 
fact  everyone  was  very  proud  of  the  new  uniform. 

A  few  days  before  the  uniforms  arrived  a  proposition  was  laid 
upon  the  table  for  the  debate  of  the  company.  The  great  question 
was,  "Shall  each  member  buy  leather  leggins?"  Nobody  knew  at 
that  time  about  the  uniform  rules  of  the  army.  Leather  leggins 
looked  fine  and  seemed  to  be  the  fashion  according  to  posters  and 
magazine  pictures.  So  the  debate  was  closed  and  the  whole  bunch 
bit  on  the  eight  and  ten  dollar  pairs.  We  used  them  several  times, 
in  fact  we  wore  them  in  two  parades,  and  were  granted  the  per- 
mission to  wear  them  to  Doniphan,  were  we  soon  sold  them  at  the 
average  price  of  $5.00  per  pair. 

On  August  13th  the  boys  received  their  physical  examination. 
A  few  were  disappointed  at  that  time  to  find  that  they  could  not 
pass  the  examination  and  go  along  with  the  company.  That  after- 
noon Captain  Arthur  L.  Donan  of  the  3rd  Kentucky  Infantry  placed 
himself  before  the  company  and  mumbled  a  few  words.  After  the 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


company  was  dismissed  the  main  question  was,  "What  did  the 
captain  have  to  say?"  It  was  soon  found  out  that  he  had  mus- 
tered us  into  Federal  Service. 

On  the  Saturdays  of  the  first  two  weeks  at  camp  we  were 
treated  fine  (just  kidding  us  along).  On  the  third  Saturday  we 
were  lined  up  in  formation  and  were  sent  to  the  infirmary.  There 
we  were  told  to  get  ready  for  the  worst.  Both  arms  were  bared 
while  iodine  swabs,  the  medics'  famous  panacea,  were  thrown  around 
freely.  There  were  three  doctors  in  one  corner  ready  for  action. 
Two  of  them  were  puncturing  the  right  arms  with  needles  and  with 
a  little  push  of  a  plunger  our  body  was  given  some  extra  fluid  so 
that  we  might  be  able  to  combat  that  great  army  disease  of  former 
years,  typhoid  fever.  The  other  doctor  was  cutting  a  few  nitches 
in  the  boys'  left  arms  so  that  the  smallpox  vaccine  could  do  its 
duty.  Fainting  was  in  order  on  that  day,  as  well  as  on  the  fol- 
lowing three  Saturdays,  when  the  puncturing  process  was  repeated, 
and  no  member  of  the  company  was  slighted. 

The  mothers  of  Kansas  City  made  army  life,  while  we  were 
at  Camp  Hoel,  as  pleasant  as  possible.  On  different  days  we 
received  a  basket  dinner,  a  watermelon  feast  and  an  ice  cream  and 
cake  festival  from  them.  Those  days  were  the  frequent  topics  of 
conversation  during  the  boys'  stay  in  France  and  will  never  be 
forgotten.  Shows  were  always  at  hand  in  Kansas  City  and  on  cer- 
tain afternoons  theatre  parties  were  formed  by  the  members  of 
the  company. 

September  27th  was  the  fatal  day  for  Kansas  Ambulance  Com- 
pany No.  2  in  Kansas  City,  Kansas.  On  that  day  camp  was  broken 
and  the  company  was  formed.  We  left  our  camp  and  marched 
lo  the  train  behind  the  famous  Kilties  Scotch  Band,  which  led  us 
down  Minnesota  Avenue  through  the  great  crowds  that  had  gath- 
ered along  the  street  to  cheer  us  on  our  way.  We  boarded  the  train 
at  Third  and  Washington  Boulevard,  where  the  boys  bid  their  dear 
ones  "goodbye." 


TRAINING  AT  CAMP  DONIPHAN 

When  that  Frisco  troop  train  pulled  out  of  Kansas  City,  Kansas, 
on  September  27th,  1917,  it  cannot  be  said  that  it  carried  a  very 
hilarious  bunch  of  soldiers.  The  men,  the  majority  of  whom  had 
never  been  away  from  home  before  for  any  length  of  time,  had  just 
spent  a  last  few  happy  days  with  the  home  folks,  sweethearts  and 
friends  and  now  they  were  going  out  into  a  new  life,  into  new 
environments  and  with  unknown  problems  and  experiences  ahead 
of  them.  They  were  quiet  at  first,  no  doubt  wondering  what  was 


GERARDMER. 


NORTH  KAST    TOWARD    CHARPENTRY. 


in  store  for  them  before  they  saw  "home"  again,  but  as  they  left 
Kansas  City  far  behind  their  quietness  disappeared  and  soon  little 
groups  were  chattering  at  a  lively  rate. 

After  an  uneventful  trip  the  troop  train  carrying  Kansas  Am- 
bulance Companies  No.  1  and  2  and  one  field  hospital  company 
arrived  at  the  Fort  Sill  railroad  yards  at  about  4:30  p.  m.  on 
September  28th.  After  a  short  delay  the  companies  started  their 
march  toward  the  area  on  the  south  side  of  the  camp,  designated 
for  the  Sanitary  Train,  and  right  then  and  there  they  were  intro- 
duced to  that  for  which  Camp  Doniphan  is  noted — DUST — five 
or  six  inches  of  it  on  every  road.  What  a  hot,  dirty  hike  that  was, 
unaccustomed  as  the  men  were  to  those  ungainly,  heavy  packs! 
And  when  Kansas  Ambulance  Company  No.  2  (later  designated  as 
Ambulance  Company  139)  reached  camp  did  they  find  comfort- 
able tents  or  barracks  to  step  into?  They  did  not.  True,  tents 
were  there,  but  they  were  in  wooden  crates,  and  there  was  a  long, 
vacant  space  between  a  mess  hall  and  a  bath  house  on  which  those 
tents  were  to  stand.  Fate  was  with  the  men  that  night,  for  the 
moon  was  shining  brightly,  so  after  a  supper  of  crackers  and  cheese 
they  soon  had  twelve  Sibley  tents  pitched  on  the  allotted  space. 
Tired  from  their  trip  and  work  litters  made  excellent  bunks  and 
the  men  slept  the  sleep  of  the  weary,  their  first  night  under  real 
army  conditions. 

Army  life,  as  experienced  in  those  first  six  weeks  at  Camp 
Doniphan,  can  scarcely  be  called  a  picnic.  //  there  had  been 
floors  in  the  tents,  and  if  you  could  have  turned  a  switch  instead 
of  having  to  light  a  candle  in  order  to  have  light,  and  if  there 
had  been  an  adequate  supply  of  good  water,  and  if  "DUST,"  in 
vast  quantities,  had  not  been  a  "regular  issue" — well,  such  was  life 
at  Doniphan  for  the  first  few  weeks. 

However,  by  Thanksgiving,  many  improvements  had  been 
made.  Good  water  was  piped  from  a  lake  some  distance  from  the 
camp  and  no  longer  was  moss  and  like  substances  found  in  the 
water  that  came  through  the  pipes.  Nor  was  it  necessary  to  watch 
all  the  dust  of  Kansas  blow  by  from  the  north  in  the  morning, 
with  a  return  trip  in  the  afternoon.  The  tents  were  floored  and 
sidings  put  on,  and  electric  lights  were  installed;  Sibley  stoves 
were  issued,  together  with  an  ample  supply  of  wood — all  of  which 
made  the  life  at  Camp  Doniphan  a  little  more  attractive.  A  large 
boiler  and  tank  was  installed  in  the  bath  house,  giving  the  men 
plenty  of  hot  wather  for  bathing  and  washing  clothes.  Military 
training  continued,  of  course,  consisting  of  drilling  on  the  field 
and  lectures  in  the  mess  hall  by  medical  officers  on  subjects  essential 
to  the  work  of  sanitary  troops.  This  included  practice  in  the  use 
of  bandages  and  splints  and  litter  drill. 

The  Thanksgiving  and  Christmas  holidays  brought  many  vis- 


10          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


itors  to  camp — mothers,  brothers,  sisters  and  friends,  all  anxious 
to  see  for  themselves  the  Army  life  that  the  men  had  been  writing 
about.  If  any  of  the  mothers  had  been  worrying  about  the  "bean:i 
and  hard-tack"  which  is  supposed  to  be  an  unvarying  part  oi  a  sol- 
dier's menu,  they  returned  home  with  that  worry  eliminated,  for 
on  both  Thanksgiving  and  Christmas,  "John,"  the  red-headed  chef 
of  the  company,  brought  forth  dinners  that  would  make  the  "Plan- 
tation Grill"  or  the  "Pompeien  Room"  sit  up  and  take  notice.  Tur- 
key, all  you  could  eat  and  with  all  the  trimmings,  and  the  dessert  of 
mince  pie  and  fruit  cake,  made  one  think  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home" 
and  Mother's  incomparable  cooking.  As  a  whole,  Army  feed  wasn't 
half  as  bad  as  it  was  supposed  to  be.  How  could  it  be,  when  flap- 
jacks, sausage,  steak  and  pie  were  regular  issues? 

The  winter  of  1917-18,  according  to  the  "natives,"  was  the 
worst  in  Oklahoma  for  fifteeen  years,  and  those  reports  will  never 
be  questioned  by  the  men  who  were  at  Doniphan  that  winter.  More 
than  once  they  awoke  in  the  morning  to  find  three  or  four  inches 
of  snow  on  the  tent  floor.  However,  unaccustomed  as  the  men  were 
to  living  in  tents  in  cold  weather,  there  was  a  comparatively  small 
amount  of  sickness.  True,  a  number  of  the  men  were  sent  to  the 
Base  Hospital,  with  measles,  influenza  and  pneumonia,  and  several 
times  the  company  was  quarantined,  but  very  few  of  the  cases  proved 
serious,  and  sooner  or  later  the  men  returned  to  duty. 

For  several  months,  both  the  Base  Hospital  and  the  Isolation 
Camp  were  in  need  of  Medical  men,  and  details  from  the  Sanitary 
Train  were  sent  to  relieve  the  situation.  The  men  were  put  to  work 
at  anything  from  nurse  to  Supply  Sergeant,  and  this  work  gave  them 
some  good,  practical  experience  along  medical  lines.  Just  before 
Christmas,  the  company  received  twelve  G.  M.  C.  Ambulances,  and 
for  the  remainder  of  our  stay  at  Doniphan  these  ambulances  were 
used  for  evacuation  work  between  the  Base  Hospital  and  the  differ- 
ent units  of  the  Division. 

Not  all  of  the  training  at  Doniphan  was  along  medical  lines, 
however.  At  regular  intervals  you  could  expect  to  find  your  name 
on  the  Bulletin  Board  under  the  heading  "Kitchen  Police,"  and 
when  it  wasn't  that,  it  was  probably  for  a  tour  of  guard  duty,  and 
if  you  were  lucky  enough  to  miss  both  of  those  details,  it  was  sel- 
dom that  you  weren't  picked  for  company  fatigue. 

The  personnel  of  our  officers  changed  somewhat  at  Doniphan. 
Lt.  Adamson  soon  after  getting  there,  received  his  honorable  dis- 
charge. About  February  1st,  Lt.  Tenney  was  transferred  to  a  Ma- 
chine Gun  Battalion,  and  Lt.  Speck  was  placed  in  command  of  the 
company.  Lt.  Paul  R.  "Daddy"  Siberts,  Lt.  Bret  V.  Bates,  and  Lt. 
Colin  C.  Vardon  were  assigned  to  the  company  while  at  Doniphan. 
the  latter  in  place  of  Lt.  Bondurant,  who  was  transferred  to  the 
Casual  Company  at  Camp  Doniphan. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  II 


With  the  coming  of  warmer  weather  in  the  early  spring,  the  out- 
side drill  turned  to  hikes,  and  many  is  the  tale  that  can  be  told 
about  the  "strategic  maneuvers"  of  the  Sanitary  Train.  Ask  any 
of  the  man  about  the  night  at  Buffalo  Springs,  when  J.  Pluvius 
turned  the  faucet  wide  open,  deluging  the  tent  city.  Ask  them 
about  "The  Lost  Sanitary  Train,"  when,  in  returning  from  Sulphur 
Springs,  they  circled  Scott  Mountain  before  they  finally  bumped 
into  Medicine  Lake,  and  finally  arrived  back  to  camp  at  3  a.  m. 
But  as  a  rule,  the  hikes  were  interesting  and  instructive,  and  fur- 
nished excellent  training.  Men  who  had  always  depended  on  Moth- 
er for  their  meals  learned  how  to  build  a  camp  fire  in  the  face  of 
a  high  wind  and  to  cook  their  dinner  of  bacon,  potatoes  and  coffee. 
They  learned  that  a  great  deal  of  territory  can  be  covered  without 
the  use  of  a  street  car  or  "flivver,"  and  incidentally  their  muscles 
became  hardened,  fitting  them  for  the  strenuous  work  ahead. 

From  the  very  first,  nothing  interested  the  men  more  than 
the  thought  of  a  furlough  home,  and  almost  as  soon  as  they  arrived 
at  Doniphan,  the  arguments  were  many  as  to  whether  it  would  be 
nicer  to  be  home  for  Thanksgiving  or  Christmas.  But  it  was  not 
until  January  that  any  leaves  at  all  were  granted.  Then  the  fur- 
loughs were  limited  to  five  or  seven  days,  and  in  that  way  almost 
all  of  the  men  were  able  to  visit  the  home  folks  for  a  few  days 
before  leaving  for  overseas  service.  Putting  their  feet  under  Moth- 
er's table  again,  and  seeing  Her  for  a  few  days,  invariably  put  the 
men  in  a  happier  and  more  contented  spirit,  and  they  came  back 
to  camp  with  more  "pep"  for  their  work. 

Tho  the  days  were  filled  with  the  routine  of  drill  and  company 
duties,  the  social  side  of  life  at  Doniphan  must  not  be  forgotten. 
Not  far  from  camp  was  the  city  of  Lawton,  and  while  it  was  far 
from  being  an  ideal  town,  it  was  at  least  a  change  from  the  monot- 
ony of  camp  life.  Passes  to  town  were  liberal,  and  the  men  spent 
many  pleasant  evenings  there,  either  at  the  picture  shows  or  with 
friends  whom  they  met  after  going  to  Doniphan. 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  deserves  a  great  deal  of  credit  for  its  work 
at  Doniphan.  "Y"  Bldg.  No.  59,  used  by  the  Sanitary  Train  and 
the  110th  Engineers,  was  just  a  short  distzance  from  the  train  area, 
and  in  the  evening  immediately  after  Retreat  a  stream  of  men 
could  be  seen  going  in  that  direction.  The  "Y"  furnished  paper 
and  envelopes,  pen  and  ink,  thus  encouraging  the  men  to  write 
home  oftener.  Movies,  at  least  twice  a  week,  band  concerts  and  box- 
ing bouts  were  some  of  the  means  of  entertaining  the  men,  and 
there  was  always  a  full  house.  On  Sundays  the  men  were  privil- 
eged to  attend  exceptionally  interesting  religious  services,  and  the 
series  of  addresses  given  by  Chaplain  Reeder  of  the  Engineers  was 
well  worth  hearing. 

Almost  as  soon  as  the  company  arrived  at  Doniphan,  rumors 
filled  the  air  about  the  Division  leaving  for  overseas  service,  but 


12          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


nothing  substantial  developed  until  about  the  middle  of  March. 
Then  orders  were  received  that  the  Division  was  booked  to  leave, 
and  the  work  preparatory  to  moving  started  in  earnest.  Every- 
thing, from  the  kichen  range  to  the  Fierce-Arrow  trucks,  had  to  be 
prepared  for  shipment.  Lumber  was  furnished,  and  the  company 
carpenters  were  kept  busy  almost  to  the  day  of  departure  building 
crates  and  boxes.  After  being  crated,  each  article  had  to  be  sten- 
ciled with  the  company  designation,  together  with  the  weight  and 
cubical  contents,  and  the  Division  Symbol.  Packing  lists  were  pre- 
pared, which  was  no  small  task,  and  the  main  work  preparatory  to 
leaving  was  completed. 

Not  all  of  the  men  of  the  company  left  Camp  Doniphan  with 
the  Division,  for  as  is  always  the  case  in  a  large  body  of  men, 
there  were  a  few  who  were  physically  unfit.  These  men,  nine  of 
them,  were  left  at  the  Casual  Camp  at  Camp  Doniphan,  and  were 
later  assigned  to  recruiting  or  military  police  duty  in  various  parts 
of  the  United  States. 


DEPARTURE  FROM  CAMP  DONIPHAN 

The  day  of  May  8th,  1918,  dawned  bright  and  fair.  The  morn- 
ing was  spent  in  finishing  up  little  odds  and  ends  of  work,  and  in 
rolling  packs.  At  1  P.  M.  "Fall  in,"  the  last  one  at  Doniphan, 
sounded,  and  soon  afterwards  the  Sanitary  Train  started  its  march 
to  the  railroad  yards.  Again  it  was  hot  and  dusty,  just  as  it  had 
been  when  the  company  marched  into  camp,  and  it  was  with  a  feel- 
ing of  relief  that  the  troop  train  came  into  view.  Pullman  cars? 
No,  the  Sanitary  Train  couldn't  be  as  fortunate  as  that,  so  the  men 
had  to  be  content  with  chair  cars. 

With  seven  months  training  behind  them,  the  men  of  Ambu- 
lance Company  139  left  Camp  Doniphan  for  "Somewhere  in  France" 
with  great  anticipation,  feeling  that  they  were  ready  for  any  part 
that  they  might  have  to  play. 

On  board  the  train,  which  left  Doniphan  at  3  P.  M.,  the  men 
amused  themselves  in  reading  and  card  games.  There  were  a  few 
details,  such  as  sweeping  the  cars,  kitchen  police  or  serving  the 
meals  "de  luxe"  to  the  boys,  but  the  old  beloved  guard  detail  was 
not  left  to  the  privates.  It  was  graciously  wished  on  the  non-coms, 
who  were  forced  to  carry  a  "45  smoke  wagon"  on  their  belts,  accord- 
ing to  some  General  Order  in  the  "blue  book."  We  never  learned 
whether  they  were  to  keep  the  boys  from  getting  out  or  to  keep 
the  feminine  sex  from  getting  in. 

At  our  first  stop,  El  Reno,  Okla.,  the  four  ambulance  compan- 
ies, which  made  up  one  train,  "fell-out"  for  a  little  exercise,  and 
after  an  hour  or  so  of  maneuvering,  we  climbed  aboard  again  to 
journey  nearer  the  Atlantic.  We  were  by  this  time  consulting  time 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  13 


tables,  watches  and  maps  to  decide  over  which  route  we  must  travel 
in  order  to  pass  through  Kansas  City,  the  home  of  most  of  the  boys 
in  the  company.  The  first  night  of  traveling  passed  slowly,  and 
as  the  first  tints  of  dawn  were  spreading  over  the  eastern  sky  our 
train  drew  into  Topeka.  Shortly  after  daybreak  the  train  left  the 
Capitol  city  of  Kansas,  and  headed  down  the  Kaw  Valley  towards 
Kansas  City.  As  the  noon  hour  of  May  9th  was  passing  away  the 
train  pulled  into  the  big  Union  Station,  where  mothers,  fathers, 
wives,  brothers,  sisters,  sweethearts  and  friends  had  been  waiting 
for  hours,  with  baskets  overflowing  with  delicious  meats,  sandwiches, 
fruits  and  all  the  rarest  and  spiciest  that  a  Mother's  effort  could  put 
forth. 

Again  the  "blue  book"  came  into  play,  and  we  took  a  little 
sightseeing  trip  up  Main  Street.  The  bride  of  a  certain  Sergeant  in 
the  company  tried  to  follow  her  "hero  in  hobs"  but  fell  out  after 
the  first  block.  We  did  an  about-face  at  12th  Street  and  double- 
timed  back  to  the  folks.  After  re-entering  the  coach,  we  leaned  out 
of  the  window,  pulled  the  Mother  and  sweetheart  up  to  us,  and  for 
the  time  being  were  utterly  unconscious  of  what  went  on  around  us 
or  where  we  were.  When  the  train  slowly  moved  out  of  the  station, 
we  tried  to  smile  as  we  said  "Good-bye,"  and  watched  the  handker- 
chiefs still  waving  when  we  rounded  the  corner  and  were  out  of 
sight. 

We  arrived  at  St.  Louis  about  12:30  the  next  morning,  and 
were  switched  onto  a  siding,  where  we  stayed  until  day-break,  when 
we  continued  our  journey,  crossing  Illinois  and  Indiana.  At  Hunt- 
ington,  Ind.,  we  again  stopped  and  had  setting-up  exercises.  Upon 
reaching  Peru,  Ind.,  we  found  Pullman  cars  awaiting  us,  and  from 
then  on  we  rode  in  style.  Our  next  stop  was  at  Salamanca,  N.  Y., 
where  exercise  was  again  on  the  program.  From  there  we  traveled 
through  some  of  the  most  picturesque  country  of  the  east. 

While  on  the  train  a  humorous  incident  occurred.  The  officer* 
heard  from  some  underground  source  that  "Snowball,"  our  dark- 
complexioned  porter,  had  been  passing  "Old  Evans"  around  to  the 
boys  in  a  promiscuous  fashion.  And  at  the  same  time  "Snowball" 
heard  in  the  same  way  that  the  officer  of  the  guard  was  going  to 
make  a  search  of  his  possessions  for  this  precious  "fire-water."  The 
search  was  made,  with  Snowball  looking  on  wild-eyed,  and  the 
officer  detective  was  about  to  give  it  up,  when  he  noticed  a  string 
leading  out  the  window,  and  upon  investigating  found  the  poor 
half-dead  soldier  (bottled  in  bond)  tied  by  the  neck  to  the  other 
end  of  the  string. 

The  last  night  of  riding  brought  us  near  to  the  eastern  coast, 
and  soon  after  daybreak  on  May  12th  the  train  stopped  at  Jersey 
City.  We  slung  our  packs  and  pushed  our  way  through  the  station 
to  a  ferry  boat.  From  this  point  many  of  us  had  our  first  view  of 
New  York  and  the  salt  water.  After  loading  on  the  ferry  we  were 


14          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


pulled  out  into  the  East  River,  where  the  boat  remained  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  day.  At  last  it  moved  on  and  we  landed  in  Long 
Island  City.  Dragging  our  packs  and  barrack  bags,  we  marched 
wearily  to  a  Long  Island  train.  A  few  hours'  ride  brought  us  to 
Garden  City,  and  truly  it  was  well  named,  for  with  its  low,  well 
kept  hedges,  its  English  gardens  and  its  wild  flowers  growing  every- 
where, it  looked  like  a  garden  city.  From  Garden  City  to  Camp 
Mills  was  a  weary  hike  but  we  finally  reached  there,  and  after  eat- 
ing supper,  we  crawled  under  our  three  0.  D.s  and  slept. 

During  our  five  days  stay  at  Camp  Mills,  some  of  the  men 
were  granted  passes  to  New  York  City,  but  we  left  before  all  the 
men  had  a  chance  to  visit  that  city  of  bright  lights.  The  day  before 
we  departed  we  were  given  the  last  of  our  overseas  equipment,  in- 
cluding the  pan-shaped  steel  helmet. 

THE  TRIP  ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC 

After  spending  five  chilly  nights  at  Camp  Mills,  Long  Island, 
and  awaiting  anxiously  the  orders  to  leave  for  France,  we  did  not 
seem  to  mind  the  coolness  of  the  night  on  May  the  17th,  for  we 
were  to  leave  the  following  day  on  the  long  expected  trip  across 
the  Atlantic.  Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  a  passer-by  could 
plainly  see  that  something  was  about  to  happen.  All  were  in  gay 
spirits  as  they  hurried  here  and  there,  gathering  together  the  mis- 
cellaneous articles  and  other  things,  which  make  up  a  soldier's 
equipment.  Packs  were  rolled,  the  camp  tidied  up,  and  our  over- 
seas boxes  loaded  on  trucks.  At  last  after  everything  was  ready  we 
fell  in  line  and  marched  across  the  camp,  to  the  train  that  would 
carry  us  to  the  ferry.  The  old  world  seemed  to  hold  a  different 
meaning  for  everyone  that  morning.  We  were  about  to  step  into 
the  greatest  adventure  of  our  lives,  and  one  that  would  never  be 
forgotten.  Groups  of  soldiers  cheered  us  on  all  sides,  and  yelled 
that  they  would  be  with  us  soon.  Some  were  from  our  own  divi- 
sion, and  we  recognized  many  of  our  friends. 

On  arriving  at  the  ferry,  we  took  our  place  as  close  to  the 
rail  as  possible,  and  waved  to  the  passengers  on  passing  boats. 
The  ferry,  filled  to  its  full  capacity,  chugged  down  the  East  River 
to  one  of  the  many  docks  where,  quietly  waiting,  was  the  big  cam- 
ouflaged boat  that  would  complete  for  us  the  trip  from  our  training 
camp  in  Doniphan  to  England. 

The  moment  that  we  had  been  looking  forward  to  for  so  long 
a  time  had  at  last  arrived.  We  wound  our  way  to  the  big  ware- 
house and  stopped  in  front  of  an  iron  door.  Stacked  on  the  floor 
were  life-saving  jackets  and  as  each  one  passed  through  the  door, 
he  received  a  colored  tag,  and  one  of  the  life-preservers.  The  tag 
assured  him  a  bunk  and  meals. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  15 


Our  expectations  were  fully  realized  as  we  filed  by  one  by  one 
up  the  gang-plank  and  onto  the  boat  that  was  to  be  our  home  for 
the  coming  fourteen  days.  We  were  divided  up  and  led  down 
stairs  to  our  quarters.  They  looked  more  like  a  steam-room  than 
a  place  to  sleep.  It  was  all  a  jumbled-up  puzzle.  Water  pipes 
seemed  to  be  running  in  all  directions,  and  arguments  could  be 
heard  on  all  sides  as  to  how  we  were  to  sleep.  In  the  midst  of  it 
all  an  officer  appeared,  and  he  told  us  to  let  down  the  rectangular 
shaped  frame,  also  made  of  water-pipe,  which  rested  in  sockets  on 
two  other  upright  pipes  like  hinged  shelves.  Then  he  told  us  to 
unwrap  the  small  piece  of  canvas,  which  was  wrapped  to  the  rec- 
tangular frame.  After  doing  this,  things  began  to  seem  clearer,  fol 
the  canvas  was  also  rectangular  in  shape,  and  had  grummets  all 
around  it.  By  means  of  the  rope  it  was  securely  laced  to  the  frame- 
work. This  composed  our  bunk,  and  there  were  three  of  these  in  a 
tier,  and  a  tier  on  each  side  of  the  two  perpendicular  pipes.  The 
aisle  between  the  bunks  was  very  narrow  and  we  crowded  and 
pushed  in  making  up  our  beds,  for  everyone  was  more  than  anxious 
to  learn  more  about  our  boat. 

In  the  meantime  several  sailors  came  in  from  the  engine  room 
and  we  began  making  friends,  although  they  had  many  a  laugh 
while  watching  us  prepare  our  bunks.  They  were  asked  for  every 
bit  of  information  we  could  think  of  about  the  boat — "How  fast  it 
could  go,"  "How  long  it  was" — and  many  other  questions  about  the 
sea,  and  their  experiences.  We  found  out  that  the  name  of  the 
boat  was  the  "S.  S.  Louisville,"  formerly  the  "St.  Louis,"  that  it 
was  564  ft.  long,  and  carried  3500  men.  On  asking  how  many 
miles  the  boat  could  make  in  an  hour,  we  were  assured  that  "it 
was  the  speediest  ship  in  the  convoy." 

By  this  time  we  heard  mess-call,  and  began  to  look  for  a  line. 
Men  were  running  upstairs  and  down,  and  hurried  questions  flew 
from  everyone  as  to  when  and  where  the  men  with  his  color  of  tag 
were  eating.  Each  color  had  a  certain  time  to  eat.  There  were 
four  colors,  two  eating  at  one  time.  The  men  filed  in  to  the 
dining  room  from  each  side  of  the  main  deck  through  two  large 
double  doors.  There  were  four  long  tables  and  we  stood  up  to 
eat,  moving  along  the  table  as  the  men  ahead  finished  eating 
and  moved  out  to  wash  their  mess-kits  in  large  sinks,  just  before 
leaving  the  room.  It  was  very  interesting  to  see  the  systematic 
way  in  which  the  men  moved  along,  taking  a  mouth-full  as  they 
pushed  their  mess-kits  up  the  table. 

As  we  were  strolling  on  deck  that  afternoon,  a  low  grumbling 
sound  met  our  ears,  as  if  it  came  from  some  place  far  below. 
Then  it  turned  into  a  rythmatical  chug  of  a  large  engine,  and  we 
knew  that  the  boat  was  getting  up  steam  preparatorv  for  the  trip. 
The  sailor-boys,  too,  were  making  preparations  for  "Jerry".  They 
carried  large  shells  and  deposited  them  in  cases  behind  the  guns, 


16          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


and  as  we  watched  them  work,  we  wondered  if  there  would  ever 
be  a  real  necessity  to  use  them  during  the  trip. 

Evening  found  everyone  knowing  the  boat  almost  by  heart, 
and  we  began  to  gather  in  groups  on  deck  and  look  about.  To 
the  rear  lay  New  York,  the  tall  buildings  outlined  against  the 
sky.  Numerous  tug-boats  were  slowly  winding  their  way  in  and 
out  of  the  docks.  One  of  the  sailors  leaning  against  the  rail 
pointed  out  to  us  the  former  German  ship  "Vaterland,"  in  a  dock 
across  the  river.  We  were  entertained  for  awhile  by  watching  a 
bunch  of  negro  waiters  for  the  officers  mess  shooting  dice,  and  a 
quartet  gave  us  a  few  songs.  But  night  soon  came,  and  we  went 
below  to  try  our  new  bunks.  One  of  the  boys  no  sooner  found 
the  trick  that  one  could  play,  than  he  immediately  dislodged  the 
man  above  him,  by  putting  his  feet  on  the  bottom  of  the  bunk 
above,  pushing  it  out  of  its  socket,  and  bringing  the  fellow  down 
into  the  aisle  below. 

All  night  the  engines  kept  up  their  continuous  running,  and 
the  next  morning  two  little  tug-boats  came  up  along  side  and 
pulled  us  out  and  down  the  river.  We  were  ordered  "below 
decks,"  out  of  sight,  but  a  few  borrowed  sailor  caps  and  stood  on 
the  lower  deck  to  get  a  last  long  look  at  old  New  York  and  the 
Statue  of  Liberty.  As  we  neared  the  open  water,  and  the  tall 
buildings  began  to  fade  away  behind  us,  the  cold  facts  of  the  sit- 
uation began  to  present  themselves.  We  were  leaving  a  land,  the 
only  one  we  had  ever  known,  to  cross  the  fathomless  ocean  to 
another  land,  and  to  battle-fields  with  horrors  unknown.  But  we 
soon  put  such  thoughts  aside  when  we  were  permitted  to  go  on 
deck.  The  convoy  was  slowly  spreading  out  into  formation,  the 
battle-ship  that  accompanied  us  going  ahead  as  our  protector.  As 
soon  as  we  reached  the  ocean,  orders  were  given  not  to  go  on 
deck  without  our  life-preservers,  and  to  stay  on  the  side  of  the 
boat  which  our  color  of  tag  designated.  By  night  we  were  using 
"sailor-terms"  for  every  part  of  the  boat.  A  detail  was  called 
for,  to  stand  watch  in  the  "crows-nest"  and  other  look-out  stations. 
One  of  the  boys  in  the  "crows-nest"  said  that  "when  we  hit  the 
rough  sea,  he  knew  the  top  of  that  main  mast  touched  the  water 
when  the  boat  made  a  big  heave  to  one  side." 

A  few  days  passed,  uneventful  except  that  we  went  through 
the  usual  drill  necessary  in  case  there  should  be  a  fire  or  an  attack 
by  submarines.  Every  man  had  his  place  to  go  in  case  of  danger. 
At  the  gong  of  a  bell,  every  man  would  grab  his  life-preserver, 
and  hurry,  supposedly  in  an  orderly  manner,  to  his  portion  of  the 
deck.  One  of  the  fellows  asked  John,  the  cook,  if  he  expected 
one  little  life-preserver  to  hold  him  up.  Well,  John  didn't  sav 
anything,  but  that  night  he  had  a  couple  of  extras — "I  might  have 
to  use  them,"  was  the  only  excuse  he  would  give. 

After  a  few  days  out  the  ocean  began  to  get  rough,  and  the 


STARTING    HOME. 


AUKIVAL    IN    KANSAS    CITY,    MAY   5,    1919. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  17 


boat  would  heave  from  side  to  side,  and  at  the  same  time  pitch 
forward  and  backward.  However,  we  soon  got  used  to  it,  and 
did  not  mind  it  so  much.  Some  time  that  night  one  of  the  boys 
who  had  been  on  deck  ran  in,  saying  "the  rudder  has  broken" — 
and  apparently  something  was  broken,  for  the  boat  seemed  to 
heave  all  the  more,  and  to  take  a  zig-zag  course.  Once  or  twice 
it  made  a  complete  circle,  and  we  began  to  think  that  they  had 
lost  all  control  of  it,  but  three  sturdy  sailors  were  sent  up  in  the 
stern  to  handle  it  by  means  of  large  pilot  wheels.  Our  company 
was  quartered  just  beneath  the  officers  kitchen,  and  during  the 
roughest  part,  the  plates  and  other  dishes  began  to  roll  from  their 
places  on  the  shelves,  breaking  upon  the  floor.  This  made  a  very 
unpleasant  sound,  above  the  uproar  of  a  thousand  other  noises. 
During  the  rough  sea,  the  mess  line  began  to  thin  out  somewhat. 
Some  would  come  into  the  mess  hall,  but  at  the  sight  of  food, 
they  would  turn  pale  and  make  a  hurried  exit. 

Soon  we  ran  into  comparatively  smooth  water  again,  and 
one  day  our  boat's  turn  came  for  target  practice.  We  drew  away 
from  the  convoy,  and  a  buoy  with  a  small  flag  on  was  dropped 
overboard.  The  gunners  took  their  turn  shooting  as  the  boat  swung 
around,  and  once  or  twice  they  came  so  close  that  we  felt  sure 
they  had  made  a  direct  hit.  The  buoy  was  knocked  under  the 
water,  but  the  little  thing  soon  appeared  again.  The  boys  were 
naturally  anxious  to  see  them  handle  the  guns,  and  they  crowded 
around  as  closely  as  possible,  but  after  the  first  shot  they  gave  them 
more  room.  One  fellow  was  standing  directly  behind  the  gun,  but 
upon  the  super-deck.  He  was  so  intent  upon  watching  the  opera- 
tions that  when  the  gun  fired  its  concussion  knocked  him  off  his 
feet.  He  got  up,  took  a  wild  look  around  and  immediately  left. 
Finally  the  big  six-inch  gun  in  the  stern  sank  the  buoy.  After 
cruising  around  all  day,  and  just  as  night  was  hovering  over  the 
sea,  we  again  caught  sight  of  the  convoy.  We  were  certainly  glad, 
too,  for  of  course  we  felt  more  comfortable  with  the  other  ships. 

It  was  on  board  the  ship  that  we  first  became  acquainted 
with  the  censorship  rules.  The  officers  did  a  slashing  business 
on  our  first  letters,  and  only  a  few  unconnected  lines  ever  reached 
the  folks  back  home. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  May  29  that  the  news  flew  over  the 
boat  that  land  was  in  sight.  Although  only  2  o'clock,  day  was 
breaking,  and  many  went  on  deck  to  see  that  which  we  had  not 
seen  for  fourteen  long  days.  Upon  reaching  the  deck,  we  could  also 
see  a  number  of  little  torpedo  destroyers  darting  here  and  there 
— small  in  size  but  powerful  little  "watchdogs"  of  the  sea.  The 
"Mosquito  Fleet"  had  arrived,  and  was  tearing  through  the  water 
in  all  directions.  We  were  thus  escorted  through  the  danger  zone, 
and  had  little  fear  of  submarines.  But  we  could  now  understand 
why  old  "Chris  Columbus"  felt  so  glad  upon  seeing  land.  As  the 


18          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


day  grew  on  we  drew  into  the  Irish  Sea.  The  water  was  as  smooth 
as  glass,  with  only  little  ripples  disturbing  its  peacefulness.  Jelly 
fish  of  every  shape  and  size  could  be  seen  through  its  clearness. 
Two  large  dirigibles,  and  several  aeroplanes  came  out  to  greet  our 
convoy  and  protect  us  in  the  dangerous  waters.  At  one  time  we 
could  see  both  Bonnie  Scotland  and  Ireland,  where  the  channel 
was  very  narrow. 

About  10  o'clock  that  morning  five  long  blasts  from  one  of 
the  ships  was  heard — the  signal  for  a  submarine.  The  little  sub- 
chasers raced  around  to  our  right  and  immediately  began  to  fire 
upon  an  object.  The  big  dirigibles  also  made  a  nose  dive,  and 
turned  loose  with  its  machine  guns.  Aroused  by  the  shooting,  we 
ran  up  on  deck  to  see  the  action,  but  were  ordered  below  to  await 
the  outcome,  and  if  there  was  ever  a  time  when  we  could  have  used 
an  "island,"  it  was  then.  However,  nothing  serious  developed,  and 
afterwards  we  were  told  that  it  was  a  broken  life  buoy  which  had 
been  mistaken  for  a  periscope. 

We  were  moving  slowly,  so  very  slowly  that  one  could  hardly 
feel  the  throbbing  of  the  tired  engines  that  for  twelve  long  days 
had  worked  untiringly.  From  the  officers'  deck  we  could  see  the 
green  and  red  guide  lights,  welcoming  our  convoy  of  fifteen  ships 
into  the  sheltered  harbor  of  Liverpool,  England. 

OUR  FLYING  TRIP  THROUGH  ENGLAND 

We  crawled  out  of  our  bunks  just  as  dawn  was  breaking  upon 
a  new  world  for  us,  and  went  on  deck,  where  we  saw,  on  a  cliff, 
"Spratt's  Dog  Food"  printed  in  large  white  letters  on  a  black 
background.  Unpoetic  and  unromantic  indeed  was  this  first  sight 
of  England. 

Here  was  where  the  "weary  waiting"  began,  as  we  waited 
for  the  first  transport  to  unload  its  human  cargo.  Old  man  "bon 
chance"  was  with  us  for  the  time  being,  for  we  were  the  second  to 
dock.  We  stood  on  the  deck,  complying  with  the  English  boys 
request  "  'ave  you  any  coins"  by  tossing  them  all  the  pennies  we 
had.  The  men  on  the  port  side  were  first  ordered  to  fall  in,  and 
then  those  on  the  starboard  side,  for  the  purpose  of  finding  out  if 
any  of  us  had  fallen  overboard  during  our  journey.  Finally,  half 
walking  and  half  sliding,  down  the  gang-plank,  we  stood  on  what 
was  to  us  real  land,  only  it  was  but  one  of  the  many  floating  docks 
of  England. 

On  the  side  of  the  main  street,  Y.  M.  C.  A.  signs  were  seen, 
and  incidentally  three  live  American  girls,  who  were  soon  serving 
the  "to-be-heroes"  with  hot  coffee,  buns  and  cookies.  Although 
they  were  war  buns  and  war  cookies,  without  sugar,  we  enjoyed 
them  to  the  utmost. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  19 


A  large,  stately  policeman  stood  guarding  the  gates  to  the 
street  and  the  docks.  Some  of  us,  wondering  what  was  on  the 
other  side  of  the  gate,  climbed  up  and  peered  over  on  a  large, 
beautifully  designed  square,  which  was  crowded  with  women  and 
children.  But,  alas,  we  were  in  a  big  hurry,  and  did  not  get  to 
parade  before  them,  or  to  receive  the  embraces  and  kisses  which 
we  were  told  awaited  us.  The  R.  T.  O.'s  (Railway  Transportation 
Officers)  crowded  us  into  a  "miniature  train,"  like  the  ones  seen 
in  the  parks  in  "God's  Country,"  and  we  were  soon  on  our  way. 

We  rode  across  streets  and  through  buildings  just  like  a 
runaway  engine  might  do.  All  the  time  pretty  girls,  dressed  in 
overalls,  waved  at  us  from  factory  windows.  After  numerous  stops, 
and  more  tunnels,  we  passed  through  the  suburbs,  traveling  at  a 
speed  which  did  not  seem  possible  from  the  looks  of  the  engine. 

We  will  never  forget  the  beauty  of  the  English  villages,  nestled 
snugly  between  green  hills,  or  the  soothing  effect  of  the  winding 
brooks  which  spread  their  cool  waters  over  the  well  kept  gardens. 

Three  or  four  times  the  train  stopped  to  take  on  water  (or 
perhaps  at  the  command  of  the  "top-cutter"  in  order  to  give  the 
boys  a  chance  to  open  another  can  of  "bully  beef").  About  mid- 
night we  grew  weary  of  sitting  in  our  little  compartments,  and 
having  cosmopolitan  ideas,  we  proceeded  to  make  ourselves  "al 
home."  Some  were  packed  upon  the  baggage  racks  and  managed 
to  get  a  little  sleep, — being  used  to  the  bunks  on  the  boat,  it  was 
not  difficult  to  adjust  ourselves  to  this  situation. 

Sometime  early  in  the  morning  we  were  awakened  by  a  pound- 
ing at  the  door,  and  thinking  it  was  a  fire  call,  or  submarine  drill, 
one  chap  immediately  began  to  feel  around  for  his  life-belt.  He 
stuck  his  fist  in  somebody's  eye,  and  was  soon  told  by  that  unfor- 
tunate person  just  where  he  was.  We  fell  in  at  the  side  of  our 
"vest  pocket  edition  of  a  train"  and  marched  off,  and  just  as  the 
sun  was  about  to  show  his  face,  we  arrived  at  Camp  Wood  ley,  Rom- 
sey,  England.  After  waiting  for  sometime  to  be  assigned  to  tents, 
which  resembled  a  miniature  Billy  Sunday  tabernacle,  we  stretched 
our  tired  bodies  on  the  soft  pine  boards  and  listened  intently  for 
the  "roar  of  cannon."  Hearing  nothing  but  the  songs  of  the  birds, 
we  decided  that  an  armistice  had  been  declared  and  proceeded  to 
make  up  for  all  the  "couchey"  we  had  lost. 

We  had  always  been  told  that  England  was  famous  for  her 
bounteous  feeds,  and  after  all  the  bully  beef  we  had  consumed  for 
our  "Uncle,"  we  thought  we  were  entitled  to  one  of  those  dinners 
of  roast  suckling  pig  and  plum  pudding.  But  alas,  we  were  badly 
disappointed,  because  in  place  of  the  former  we  had  a  piece  of 
cheese,  the  size  of  which  wouldn't  be  an  inducement  even  to  a 
starved  rat,  and  in  place  of  the  latter,  we  ate  a  bit  of  salt  pork. 

During  our  brief  stay  at  Camp  Woodley,  we  visited  many  his- 
torical buildings  and  places.  Among  these  was  the  old  Abbey  at 


20'          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Romsey,  built  in  the  eleventh  century,  the  walls  of  which  plainly 
showed  the  ball  marks  of  Oliver  Cromwell's  siege  against  it.  The 
pews  in  the  Abbey  were  the  same  old  benches  of  old,  and  the  altar 
was  the  work  of  an  ancient  artist.  Around  the  walls  were  carved 
the  epitaphs  and  names  of  those  who  were  buried  in  its  stately 
walls.  Along  with  the  tombs  of  the  old  forefathers  who  had  fought 
with  the  armor  and  lance  were  the  tombs  of  the  late  heroes,  whc 
fought  with  the  methods  of  modern  times.  We  signed  our  names 
in  the  visitors  book,  along  with  King  George  and  Ex-Kaiser  Wil- 
helm. 

Our  hikes  in  the  morning  were  enjoyed  by  everyone,  over  well 
kept  roads  shaded  from  the  hot  sun  by  large  over-hanging  trees, 
the  same  old  trees  and  the  same  old  Sherwood  forest  that  Robin 
Hood  knew  so  well.  But  as  Roger  Knight  says,  "You  can't  eat 
scenery ! " 

After  an  enjoyable  five  days,  spent  in  doing  nothing  much, 
we  donned  our  packs  again  and  started  for  the  Channel,  a  distance 
of  twelve  miles.  While  walking  thru  the  streets  of  Southampton, 
our  throats  parched  and  our  feet  sore,  we  were  cheered  time  and 
again  by  the  women  and  children,  and  many  ran  alongside  of  the 
marching  column  serving  us  cool  water.  We  sighed  as  we  had 
to  pass  Ale  Shops  just  as  if  they  weren't  there.  About  noon  we 
stopped  at  a  Base  Hospital  to  eat  our  picnic  luncheon — (Bully  beef) . 

Our  first  big  thrill  of  "La  Guerre"  came  when  we  saw  some 
real  live  Boche  prisoners  working  on  the  roads.  We  watched  them 
as  a  little  boy  watches  the  elephant  at  the  circus.  One  of  the  boys 
asked  them,  in  German,  how  they  liked  England,  and  they  said 
they  liked  it  much  better  than  fighting. 

After  our  slight  repast,  we  again  took  up  our  yoke,  and  did 
one  hundred  and  twenty  per  until  we  reached  the  docks  at  South- 
ampton. 


FROM  SOUTHAMPTON  TO  LE  HAVRE 

On  the  dock  at  Southampton,  the  British  Y.  M.  C.  A.  operated 
a  canteen,  selling  hot  coffee,  cakes  without  sugar,  and  ginger  bread 
made  of  ginger  and  water.  The  supply  lasted  about  fifteen  min- 
utes, as  we  were  one  hungry  bunch. 

We  boarded  the  "Archangel,"  a  small  passenger  boat,  about 
9  P.  M.  on  the  sixth  of  June.  In  peace  times  the  "Archangel"  was 
used  as  a  pleasure  steamer,  but  was  converted  into  a  troop  ship 
to  ply  between  Southampton  and  Le  Havre.  It  had  three  decks, 
which  accommodated  about  325  men  each.  We  donned  our  life- 
belts, as  usual,  and  tried  to  make  ourselves  comfortable,  but  like 
all  troop  ships,  that  was  impossible.  The  men  tried  sleeping  on 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          21 


deck,  but  it  turned  too  cold,  and  they  tried  below  deck.  Some  were 
sleeping  in  the  once  "state-rooms,"  but  they  were  too  small  to 
accommodate  all,  so  the  rest  slept  in  gang-ways,  on  chairs,  benches 
and  barrack  bags.  We  were  tired  in  body  but  our  spirits  were 
high,  and  we  wanted  to  see  the  front,"  so  we  lay  down  where  we 
happened  to  be,  using  our  life-belts  as  pillows.  While  pulling  out 
into  the  harbor,  we  saw  ships  in  dry  dock  with  large  holes  in 
their  hulls,  others  with  nothing  above  water  but  the  masts,  all 
caused  by  the  submarines.  And  when  the  little  speed  demon  raised 
anchor  and  slipped  out  of  the  harbor,  we  were  all  fast  asleep,  never 
dreaming  of  what  lay  before  us  in  France,  and  not  caring  a  great 
deal  either.  We  waited  in  the  outside  harbor  until  dark,  or  about 
10  o'clock,  and  then  started  our  trip  across  the  channel.  The  boat 
made  very  good  time,  and  the  trip  was  uneventful. 

At  about  7  A.  M.  we  were  called  to  breakfast,  which  consisted 
of  the  customary  bully-beef,  coffee  and  hard-tack,  and  upon  coming 
on  deck,  we  discovered  that  we  were  resting  safely  at  one  of  the 
big  docks  of  Le  Havre.  The  sun  was  shining  bright  and  hot,  and 
after  unloading  and  having  our  pictures  taken  by  a  moving  picture 
camera,  we  were  lined  up  and  marched  toward  the  city  proper  of 
Le  Havre.  We  were  a  tired,  disappointed  bunch  of  men,  for  in- 
stead of  the  beautiful  country  we  had  expected,  we  saw  a  factory 
infested  city.  The  docks  looked  more  like  an  arsenal,  with  cases 
of  ammunition  everywhere,  and  it  looked  as  if  the  whole  French 
and  English  armies  were  working  there. 

On  our  march  to  the  rest  camp,  we  passed  large  bodies  of 
French  and  Indo-Chinese  laborers  unloading  cars,  and  conveying 
merchandise  to  the  warehouses.  It  was  a  common  sight  to  see  two 
or  three  of  them  pulling  a  large,  two-wheeled  cart  full  of  ammu- 
nition. We  also  passed  a  number  of  German  prisoners  working 
on  the  roads,  with  the  usual  "Poilu"  present,  with  his  long  rifle 
and  bayonet.  It  was  strange  to  see  the  French  carrying  their  guns 
just  opposite  to  .the  way  the  American  troops  do.  We  saw  many 
large  caliber  guns  and  caissons,  that  were  back  from  the  front 
for  repair,  also  blocks  of  salvaged  motor  trucks. 

We  marched  about  five  miles  to  American  Rest  Camp  No.  2, 
and  were  put  into  an  old  cow-shed  to  sleep.  It  was  the  first  billet 
we  had  in  France,  and  while  it  was  not  the  most  desirable  place 
in  the  world  to  sleep,  it  looked  mighty  good  to  us,  as  we  had  not 
had  much  rest  since  leaving  Romsey,  England. 

We  were  issued  meal  tickets,  and  had  English  tea,  war  bread 
and  cheese  for  breakfast,  "slum"  and  war  bread  for  dinner,  and 
English  tea  and  cheese  for  supper.  We  had  a  good  night's  sleep, 
but  the  next  morning  we  were  hiked  up  on  a  mountain,  where  we 
were  issued  English  gas-masks.  We  went  through  a  gas  chamber, 
to  see  that  the  masks  were  0.  K.,  and  to  give  us  confidence  in 
them.  About  noon  trucks  were  brought  up  to  take  us  back  to 


22         HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


camp,  and  upon  arriving  there,  we  were  given  orders  to  roll  packs 
and  be  ready  to  move.  Every  one  made  a  trip  to  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
where  we  could  buy  our  first  American  cigarettes  since  coming  from 
the  States.  We  did  not  know  where  we  were  going,  or  when  we 
could  buy  more. 


OUR  TRIP  THROUGH  FRANCE  TO  ELOYES 

At  three  P.  M.  on  June  the  eighth  we  rolled  our  packs  and 
started  on  our  first  venture  into  the  mysteries  of  France.  It  took 
us  about  forty-five  minutes  of  steady  hiking  through  hot  and  dusty 
streets  to  reach  the  depot  where  we  were  to  entrain.  We  found  a 
long  string  of  second  and  third  class  coaches  waiting  for  us.  Our 
barrack  bags  and  three  days  rations  had  been  loaded  on  two  box 
cars  by  a  special  detail  sent  ahead  for  that  purpose. 

We  crowded  into  our  cars  and  all  was  ready  to  go.  A  descrip- 
tion of  a  French  car  might  help  one  to  get  a  better  idea  of  our 
situation.  The  car  is  only  about  one-half  as  long  as  an  American 
coach  and  it  is  divided  into  five  separate  compartments.  Each 
compartment  has  a  window  and  a  door  on  each  side.  There  is  a 
step  on  the  outside  running  (the  entire  length  of  the  car.  It  is  just 
below  the  level  of  the  floor  and  one  can  walk  from  one  compart- 
ment to  the  other  if  he  is  not  afraid  of  falling  off  the  car.  The 
compartment  is  about  large  enough  for  four  persons  to  ride  in  any 
degree  of  comfort  if  they  have  cushions  to  sit  on;  but  the  Railway 
transport  officer  evidently  thought  that  there  would  be  more  room 
if  the  cushions  were  removed.  There  were  eight  of  us  to  each  com- 
partment. 

We  were  scheduled  to  leave  at  three  P.  M.  and  by  rushing  a 
little  we  were  loaded  by  a  few  minutes  after  that  hour.  We  lived 
up  to  the  reputation  of  the  Sanitary  Train  for  always  being  on  time 
and  pulled  out  of  the  station  only  three  hours  late.  We  thought 
at  least  that  we  were  going  to  see  some  of  the  beautiful  France 
we  had  heard  about.  We  had  not  gone  far  when  we  realized  that 
we  were  going  to  have  plenty  of  time  to  look  at  the  scenery.  France 
must  have  some  very  strict  laws  against  speeding  for  we  never 
traveled  faster  than  ten  miles  per  hour  and  it  was  very  seldom  that 
we  ever  went  that  fast. 

We  ate  our  supper  as  soon  as  we  were  out  of  Le  Havre.  It 
was  a  very  hearty  meal.  Each  man's  issue  was  five  crackers,  one- 
eighth  of  a  can  of  "corn  wooley,"  one-eighth  of  a  can  of  tomatoes. 
He  didn't  have  much  variation  from  that  during  the  trip. 

Our  next  problem  was,  how  were  we  going  to  sleep.  It  did 
not  take  long  to  solve  that.  Two  of  the  boys  slept  in  the  hat  racks, 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          23 


four  slept  in  the  seats  and  two  slept  on  the  floor  between  the  seats. 
Part  of  .the  time  we  slept  piled  on  top  of  each  other.  When  we 
woke  up  in  the  morning  we  felt  like  we  had  set  up  all  night. 

The  second  day  we  began  to  get  our  first  real  sight  of  France. 
We  saw  soldiers  guarding  the  bridges  and  tunnels.  Troop  trains 
passed  us  all  day  long  going  to  from  the  front  carrying  both 
French  and  American  soldiers.  We  saw  our  first  real  barbed  wire 
entanglements  that  day  and  it  made  us  realize  that  we  were  getting 
near  the  place  where  the  fighting  was  going  on.  The  children  all 
along  the  way  attracted  our  attention  by  running  along  the  .track 
crying  "biskeet"  and  holding  out  their  hands.  They  looked  queer 
to  us.  They  wore  a  little  black  apron  and  wooden  shoes.  Some 
of  the  fellows  threw  hard  tack  out  the  window  to  them  just  to  see 
them  scramble  for  it. 

The  rest  of  our  trip  was  similar  to  the  first  day.  We  went  by 
the  way  of  Rouen  and  Troyes  and  arrived  in  Epinal,  a  city  on  the 
edge  of  the  Vosges  mountains,  on  the  evening  of  June  the  tenth. 
We  were  a  very  tired  and  hungry  bunch  for  our  rations  had  run 
low  that  morning  and  we  had  eaten  nothing  but  hard  tack  all  day. 

We  detrained  there  and  marched  through  the  town  to  an  old 
military  prison  of  Napoleon's  time.  We  were  told  that  we  would 
spend  the  night  there.  There  were  several  large  buildings  sur- 
rounded by  a  high  stone  wall  with  only  one  gate  and  that  was 
guarded  by  a  French  soldier.  There  were  about  one  hundred  Ger- 
man prisoners  in  the  building  next  to  our  quarters.  As  we  were 
not  permitted  to  go  up  town  .the  French  people  thought  that  we 
were  prisoners  also.  We  were  given  our  barrack  bags  that  night 
for  the  first  time  since  we  left  the  states.  We  were  without  any 
funds  so  some  of  the  boys  who  were  fortunate  enough  .to  have  some 
"Bull  Durham"  stored  away  in  their  barrack  bags  disposed  of  it 
to  the  French  soldiers  for  a  franc  a  package.  It  was  an  exchange 
where  both  parties  were  satisfied. 

We  learned  that  the  division  was  billeted  a  few  miles  south 
and  the  next  morning  we  received  orders  to  move  to  Eloyes  at  two 
P.  M.  Trucks  were  furnished  to  haul  our  barrack  bags  and  packs 
and  we  started  out  hiking  with  our  company  in  the  lead  of  the 
train.  We  were  half  way  there  when  we  saw  our  first  aeroplanes 
in  action  along  the  front.  There  were  five  of  them  in  battle  for- 
mation returning  from  the  direction  of  the  front.  We  noticed  that 
houses  and  lumber  piles  along  the  road  were  camouflaged.  This 
began  to  look  like  the  war  that  we  had  heard  about.  We  passed 
through  Arches,  division  headquarters  at  that  time,  about  mess.  We 
thought  that  we  were  at  the  end  of  our  long  journey  and  could 
almost  taste  our  supper  but  we  did  not  stop  there.  Just  as  we 
came  in  sight  of  Eloyes  it  began  to  rain.  It  did  not  rain  long  and 
the  sun  came  out  just  as  we  were  climbing  the  hill  to  our  kitchen. 
There  was  a  very  pretty  rainbow  with  the  end  of  it,  so  it  seemed, 


24         HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


right  at  our  kitchen.  That  was  one  time  that  there  was  something 
better  than  a  pot  of  gold  at  the  end  of  the  rainbow,  for  the  cooks 
had  supper  almost  ready  for  us.  It  certainly  tasted  good  to  us 
after  our  long  hike. 

It  began  raining  almost  immediately  after  supper  and  rained 
most  of  the  night.  We  stood  around  in  the  rain  until  almost 
eleven  P.  M.,  while  the  Major  de  Cantonment  was  explaining 
that  he  had  no  billets  for  us.  We  were  tired  enough  to  pitch  our 
pup  tents  and  sleep  in  the  streets  but  finally  we  marched  about  a 
mile  out  of  town  and  were  put  in  a  barn  for  the  night.  One  of  the 
boys  said  he  will  always  feel  like  a  criminal  for  robbing  a  calf  of  its 
bed  and  also  for  carrying  away  about  a  thousand  "petite  crawling 
animals." 

We  marched  back  to  town  the  next  morning  about  eight  A. 
M.  and  enjoyed  a  breakfast  of  bacon,  hardtack  and  coffee.  During 
-the  day  the  soldiers  who  occupied  the  town  moved  out  and  by  five 
o'clock  our  company  was  located  in  fairly  good  billets. 

It  rained  so  consistently  that  we  did  not  get  to  drill  for  over 
a  week.  We  were  issued  our  overseas  caps  and  spiral  leggins  a 
few  days  after  we  arrived  in  Eloyes.  At  the  same  time  we  turned 
in  our  barrack  bags  and  russet  shoes.  We  were  equipped  for  the 
trenches. 

We  began  drilling  by  going  out  under  some  trees  and  prac- 
ticing with  our  gas  masks.  A  few  days  later  we  received  litters 
and  then  our  real  drilling  began.  "Patients"  would  be  sent  out 
and  located  on  the  sides  of  the  steep  hills  and  the  litter  bearers 
were  supposed  to  locate  them  and  bring  them  safely  down  the 
almost  impassable  paths. 

However,  the  boys  were  not  worked  very  hard  and  they  had 
plenty  of  time  to  spend  with  the  inhabitants  learning  to  "parlez 
Francais."  Many  of  the  soldiers  acquired  private  instructors  in 
the  shape  of  small  French  boys  who  were  only  too  glad  to  be 
adopted  by  the  Americans.  The  typewriter  in  the  office  was  a  big 
drawing  card  for  children.  There  was  always  a  large  bunch  hang- 
ing around  to  watch  "Abe"  operate  the  machine. 

We  received  some  English  army  trucks  here  and  after  teach- 
ing them  to  "Talk  American"  used  them  as  ambulances.  We 
evacuated  the  sick  of  the  division  to  Field  Hospital  137  at  Eloyes. 

About  the  middle  of  June  the  division  was  ordered  up  to 
take  over  the  sector  east  of  us  in  Alsace.  Lieut.  Siberts  took  a 
detachment  with  trucks  to  Bussang  to  cover  the  movement,  evacuat- 
ing his  patients  to  Field  Hospital  139  which  went  into  action  there. 
This  detachment  was  the  first  detachment  of  the  Sanitary  Train  to 
operate  in  Alsace. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          25 


IN  ACTION  ON  THE  WESSERLING  SECTOR 

Late  in  June,  1918,  the  35th  Division  relieved  the  French 
troops  on  a  portion  of  the  front  line  in  Alsace.  Ambulance  Com- 
pany 139  entered  Alsace  on  June  24th  and  located  in  the  quiet  little 
village  of  Ranspach,  thus  being  the  first  company  of  the  110th 
Sanitary  Train  to  cross  the  former  boundary  line  between  French 
and  German  soil.  Ranspach  is  near  the  much  larger  factory  town 
of  Wesserling,  and,  Division  Headquarters  being  located  at  the 
latter  place,  the  whole  12  or  15  kilometres  of  front  held  by  th<s 
35th  Division  has  come  to  be  termed  the  "Wesserling  Sector".  Tin 
front  line  itself  was  about  ten  kilometres  east  of  Wesserling. 

Practically  the  whole  front  in  Alsace  was  made  up  of  what 
were  called  "quiet"  sectors,  to  distinguish  them  from  "active"  sec- 
tors. Alsace  is  mountainous  and  the  mountains  are  usually  heavily 
timbered.  The  valleys  are  narrow,  and  the  main  ones  run  north 
by  south.  The  front  lines  also  ran  north  by  south,  parallel  to  the 
valleys.  Hence,  neither  side  could  gain  ground  without  paying 
dearly  for  it.  By  a  sort  of  mutual  understanding,  both  the  French 
and  the  German  troops  had  come  to  regard  Alsace  as  a  place  to 
rest,  after  the  strenuous  campaigns  on  other  fronts.  When  our 
fresh  troops  came,  they  made  Alsace  a  less  quiet  front,  but  for 
the  most  part  they  merely  held  their  ground,  as  the  French  had 
done  for  nearly  four  years  after  having  pushed  the  Germans  back 
part  way  through  Alsace  in  August,  1914.  It  was  a  final  training 
area  for  American  divisions  that  had  just  arrived  overseas. 

Ambulance  Company  139  maintained  its  headquarters  at  Rans- 
pach for  exactly  one  month.  During  that  time,  however,  most  of 
the  company  was  at  the  front.  Those  who  were  left  did  not  have 
to  drill,  for  we  were  within  aerial  observation  and  no  formations 
could  be  stood.  The  trenches  were  scarcely  five  miles  away,  tho 
by  the  winding  road  up  through  the  mountains  it  was  twice  thai 
far.  The  main  diversion  during  the  day  was  watching  the  anti- 
aircraft batteries  shoot  at  the  Boche  aeroplanes.  On  the  morning 
of  July  3rd  we  were  rewarded  for  our  patience,  upon  seeing  our 
first  Boche  plane  fall  after  being  hit.  It  must  have  been  5000  ft. 
in  the  air  when  hit,  and  made  a  straight  nose  dive  for  the  earth, 
but  before  it  landed,  it  righted  itself  and  spun  around  like  a  leal 
until  it  hit  the  ground. 

Every  evening  we  would  have  our  supper  contested.  An  old 
man  and  his  dog  grazed  a  herd  of  goats  during  the  day,  and  brought 
them  home  in  the  evening,  just  when  we  were  eating.  They  passed 
right  by  our  kitchen  and  tried  their  best  to  help  themselves  to 
our  supper.  As  the  goats  passed  by  their  respective  houses,  the 


dog  would  separate  them  and  run  them  into  their  own  yards.  In 
the  morning,  at  the  sound  of  a  horn,  the  goats  would  run  out  of 
their  houses  and  join  the  collective  herd. 

Canes  became  the  style  from  the  buck  private  up,  and  every 
evening  we  would  go  walking,  Wesserling,  St.  Amarin,  or  the 
cherry  trees  on  the  sides  of  the  mountain  being  the  chief  points 
of  interest.  The  canes  were  a  great  help  in  climbing  the  hills. 

For  the  first  time  since  our  arrival  in  France  we  were  paid, 
and  in  Franch  money,  and  that  evening  "vin  rouge"  reigned  supreme 
in  the  little  village.  It  didn't  take  us  long  to  become  accustomed 
to  francs  and  centimes,  instead  of  dimes  and  quarters. 

Within  two  days  after  reaching  Ranspach  we  sent  out  small 
detachments  of  litter  bearers  to  Nennette,  Duchet  and  Wagram,  as 
the  35th  Division  was  already  moving  up  to  relieve  the  French. 
The  last  named  detachment  returned  two  days  later,  because  no 
American  infantry  was  to  hold  that  portion  of  the  line.  Still 
later  the  detachment  at  Nennette  moved  to  Larchey. 

After  studying  the  maps  and  roads  of  the  sector,  the  company 
commander  decided  to  divide  it  into  two  subsectors,  the  one  on 
the  right  centering  at  Larchey,  and  the  one  on  the  left  at  Mittlach 
Accordingly,  on  June  29th,  two  detachments  from  the  company 
left  Ranspach  together.  One  detachment  of  ten  men,  Lt.  Bates, 
was  to  take  to  Larchey;  the  other  of  seven  men,  Lt.  Monteilh,  was 
to  take  to  Mittlach.  As  the  company  had  no  ambulances,  all  the 
men  hiked,  carrying  their  packs.  One  of  the  Sanitary  Service 
Units  commonly  known  as  the  "S.  S.  U."  had  been  attached  to 
our  company  for  ambulance  service,  so  one  of  its  Ford  ambulances 
started  out  by  another  route  to  haul  the  officers'  luggage  and 
some  medical  supplies  to  the  two  stations.  There  was  a  box  of  sur- 
gical dressings  and  a  box  of  food  for  each  station.  And  herein 
lies  one  of  the  mysteries  of  the  war.  The  ambulance  stopped  at 
Larchey  first,  as  it  was  the  nearer  of  the  two  points,  but  while  the 
box  of  surgical  dressings  reached  Mittlach,  the  box  of  food  never 
did.  Was  it  left  at  Larchey  or  lost  in  transit?  Before  the  two 
detachments  reached  Larchey  they  separated,  the  detachment  headed 
for  Mittlach  keeping  the  main  road.  When  it  arrived  at  Mittlach 
late  that  evening  the  Ford  ambulance  had  already  gone,  and  it 
left  no  food  box  there.  Sgt.  Pringle  accused  Sgt.  Knight  of  the 
theft,  and  therein  lies  an  argument  to  this  day. 

In  each  of  the  two  sectors  the  same  plan  was  followed  so  far 
as  the  handling  or  casualties  was  concerned.  Detachments  of  litter 
bearers  went  out  to  the  different  dressing  stations  established  by 
the  sanitary  detachments  of  the  infantry.  These  dressing  stations, 
or  infirmaries,  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  were  located  as  close 
to  the  front  lines  as  wounded  men  could  be  collected  with  safety. 
The  138th  Infantry  held  the  lines  in  front  of  Larchey,  and  the 
137th  Infantry  in  front  of  Mittlach.  Sgt.  Wiershing  had  already 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          27 


taken  one  litter  squad  to  Mittlach  and  from  there  on  out  to  a  post 
called  Braunkopf,  where  the  infirmary  of  the  third  battalion  was 
located. 

The  French  had  an  Alpine  Ambulance  at  Mittlach  and  another 
at  Larchey.  It  is  well,  here,  to  say  a  few  words  about  these  or- 
ganizations. They  in  no  way  resemble  our  American  Ambulance 
Companies,  corresponding  rather  to  our  Field  Hospitals,  though 
even  more  complete  than  these.  Alpine  Ambulances  were  usually 
within  three  kilometres  of  the  front  line  and  often  in  plain  view 
of  the  enemy.  Hence  they  must  be  housed  in  dugouts.  The  one 
at  Mittlach  consisted  of  a  series  of  underground  chambers  roofed 
over  with  heavy  timbers  and  stone.  There  was  a  well  equipped 
operating  room  and  a  chamber  for  treating  gassed  patients.  The 
whole  thing  was  lighted  by  electricity.  In  fact,  it  was  a  modern 
hospital  located  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of  the  front  line  trenches. 

The  staff  of  each  Alpine  Ambulance  was  permanent.  It  did 
not  move  away  when  the  French  Infantry  left  a  sector;  hence  the 
natural  and  logical  thing  to  do  was  to  secure  permission  to  use 
the  Alpine  Ambulance  as  a  dressing  station.  This  we  did  at  both 
Larchey  and  Mittlach.  In  the  former  case  the  dressing  station  was 
operated  by  Lt.  Vardon  and  a  detail  from  our  company;  in  the 
latter  case  by  a  detachment  from  Ambulance  Company  138.  The 
French  willingly  placed  their  hospital  equipment  at  the  disposal 
of  these  detachments. 

At  both  Larchey  and  Mittlach  each  litter  squad  consisted  of 
four  men  equipped  with  one  litter,  and,  where  the  road  was  suit- 
able, a  two-wheeled  litter  cart.  The  detachment  at  Larchey  also 
had  a  mule  which  was  supposed  to  pull  the  litter  cart,  but  usually 
the  men  pulled  it  rather  than  bother  fetching  the  mule.  Theoret- 
ically the  battalion  aid  stations  of  the  infantry  should  be  well  up 
toward  the  front  line  trench  so  that  the  wounded  can  receive 
prompt  attention.  The  litter  bearers  of  the  Ambulance  Company 
are  supposed  to  take  the  wounded  after  first  aid  has  been  given,  and 
carry  them  back  to  the  ambulance  dressing  station,  where  an 
ambulance  takes  them  on  back  to  a  field  hospital.  In  practice  this 
plan  did  not  always  work  out  while  we  were  in  the  Vosges  Moun- 
tains. The  front  line  was  so  irregular  and  good  locations  for 
battalion  aid  stations  so  few  that  they  were  sometimes  almost  in 
the  front  line  trench,  and  at  other  times  quite  far  back.  As  a 
result  it  was  frequently  impossible  to  place  relay  posts  so  as  to 
equalize  the  work  of  our  litter  squads. 

In  the  Larchey  sector  there  was  one  main  road  leading  out 
toward  the  front.  About  two  kilometres  from  Larchey,  at  a 
point  called  Brun,  this  road  branched,  the  branches  leading  to 
points  named  Vialet,  Sermet,  Fokeday  and  Old  Colette.  We  had 
litter  squads  stationed  at  each  of  the  above  named  points.  An 
ambulance  could  go  from  Larchey  to  Brun  in  daylight  without 


28         HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


being  seen  by  the  Germans  so  when  a  litter  squad  had  carried  their 
patient  to  Brun,  they  telephoned  in  to  Larchey  for  the  ambulance. 
A  separate  road  led  from  Larchey  to  a  point  to  the  northeast  called 
DeGalbert.  Two  litter  squads  were  stationed  there,  and  later  a 
mule  was  sent  down,  to  be  used  for  pulling  the  litter  cart.  Two 
litter  squads  were  also  sent  to  Vialet  and  some  men  had  to  be 
kept  in  reserve  at  Larchey.  By  July  4th  we  had  about  thirty-two 
men  in  the  Larchey  sector. 

At  Mittlach  our  territory  was  divided  into  two  distinct  parts 
by  a  rather  wide  valley  that  ran  straight  east  and  west  for  about 
one  kilometre  below  the  town,  and  then  joined  the  main  valley 
running  north  and  south.  The  German  trenches  were  on  the 
eastern  slope  of  this  main  valley  and  ours  were  on  the  western 
slope  and  in  the  valley  itself.  The  German  artillery  had  a  clear 
sweep  at  Mittlach  and  the  side  valley,  which  could  not  be  crossed 
in  the  daytime.  Nor  was  it  practical  for  an  ambulance  to  go  east 
of  Mittlach  in  daylight.  Hence  we  had  to  establish  two  distinct 
routes  of  evacuation  for  litter  cases.  The  northern  route  led  from 
Mittlach  out  along  the  side  of  the  mountain  to  Krantz,  where  a 
relay  squad  was  stationed.  Further  on  at  Braunkopf  we  stationed 
another  litter  squad  in  the  battalion  aid  station.  About  three 
kilometres  beyond  Braunkopf,  at  a  point  called  Runtz,  we  had 
another  squad.  This  station  was  at  the  extreme  left  of  the  sector 
held  by  the  35th  Division  Infantry,  and  was  a  good  eight  kilom- 
etres from  Mittlach.  Both  Runtz  and  Braunkopf  evacuated  to 
Krantz,  where  the  relay  squad  took  the  patients  and  either  hauled 
them  by  litter  carts  or  carried  them  to  Mittlach.  On  the  southern 
route  the  main  road  from  Mittlach  led  to  Camp  Dubarle,  where 
we  stationed  six  men  as  a  relay.  Other  squads  were  stationed  be- 
yond Dubarle  at  the  ruined  village  of  Metzeral,  at  D'Angeley,  and 
at  Camp  Martin,  the  latter  being  about  nine  kilometres  southeast 
of  Mittlach.  All  patients  collected  on  the  southern  route  were 
evacuated  through  Dubarle.  These  numerous  posts  required  many 
men,  so  that  by  July  4th  there  were  forty  from  the  company  at 
Mittlach.  The  last  detachments  that  left  Ranspach  were  a  dis- 
appointed lot.  The  company  was  preparing  a  big  dinner  for  the 
next  day,  and  some  of  these  men  had  worked  helping  to  prepare 
it — then  they  had  to  shoulder  their  packs  late  on  the  night  of  the 
3rd  of  July  and  hike  to  Larchey  and  Mittlach. 

During  the  month  that  this  company  had  a  detachment  at  Lar- 
chey there  were  two  raids  in  that  sector.  About  the  sixth  of  July, 
Company  "H"  of  the  138th  Infantry  made  a  raid.  The  artillery 
preparation  began  at  7:45  in  the  evening  and  at  8:30  the  raiding 
party  of  one  officer  and  238  men  went  over  the'  top.  They  were 
gone  one-half  hour,  and  at  about  the  same  time  that  they  came 
back  to  our  trenches  the  first  wounded  were  brought  in  by  the 
stretcher  bearers  from  the  line  organizations.  Meantime  our  litter 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139          29 


squads  had  known  of  the  contemplated  raid,  so  they  were  ready 
to  receive  the  wounded  and  litter  them  on  back  to  Brun.  The 
raid  took  place  directly  in  front  of  Vialet.  From  there  to  Brun 
it  was  nearly  five  kilometres,  and  uphill.  Litter  bearing  is  stren- 
uous work  at  best,  but  it  is  doubly  so  when  performed  in  the  dark, 
and  over  strange,  up-hill  trails.  There  were  in  all  nineteen  patients 
to  carry  that  night.  The  first  patient,  carried  by  Joe  Barnes,  Ves- 
per, Toohey  and  John  Crowley,  was  a  Boche.  The  job  lasted 
nearly  all  night,  and  it  was  getting  daylight  when  the  last  wounded  1 
man  reached  Larchey  next  morning.  The  work  of  the  infantry 
had  lasted  not  quite  a  half  hour. 

Nearly  a  week  later  the  Germans  attempted  a  raid  early  one 
morning,  but  it  was  easily  repulsed.  The  work  of  our  detachment 
during  the  remainder  of  the  month  consisted  mostly  of  carrying 
occasional  patients,  and  making  the  climbs  back  and  forth  to  meals. 
In  some  cases  this  was  no  small  task.  Frequently  a  litter  squad 
would  have  to  go  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  more  after  rations,  and 
the  trails  were  steep  and  narrow.  Then  there  were  occasional 
bombardments  by  the  Germans,  and  the  first  shell  was  enough  to 
set  everyone  going  for  a  dugout.  During  one  bombardment  a 
large  shell  exploded  close  to  a  dugout  occupied  by  three  of  our 
men,  and  caved  it  in.  Covington  was  one  of  the  three  men,  and 
the  event  was  more  or  less  immortalized  by  his  song,  a  parody  on 
"When  you  wore  a  tulip,  and  I  wore  a  big  red  rose": 

"I  was  sleeping  in  a  dugout  right  up  close  to  the  front  line, 
Now  I  was  feeling  fine,  when  those  Dutch  they  issued  mine; 
They  shot  some  high  explosives  right  in  my  dugout  door, 
And  since  that  time  my  dugout  is  no  more. 
I  grabbed  my  full  equipment  then  and  started  back  to  town, 
For  those  dirty  kraut  eaters  had  torn  my  play  house  down. 

Chorus. 

When  they  blew  up  my  dugout,  my  most  substantial  dugout, 

Then  I  got  right  on  my  toes; 

And  when  that  shrapnel  busted,  I  was  thoroughly  disgusted 

And  the  speed  I  made,  no  one  knows. 

When  I  started  running,  my  feet  had  a  yearning 

To  go  from  where  the  shrapnel  flows; 

So  when  he  blew  up  my  dugout,  I  got  my  clothes  and  tore  out, 

The  reason — the  Lord  only  knows." 

On  another  night,  when  Lt.  Vardon  and  Sergeants  Knight  and 
Childs  were  racing  for  a  dugout,  Lt.  Vardon  ran  past  the  entrance 
The  glare  cast  by  a  nearby  shell  explosion  lighted  up  the  dugout 
and,  doubling  back,  Lt.  Vardon  beat  Childs  into  it.  A  man  casts 
dignity  aside  and  sprints  when  shells  begin  dropping  around  him. 


30         HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139 


At  Mittlach  there  were  no  raids  in  the  proper  sense  of  th« 
term.  No  detachment  of  the  infantry  ever  went  over  the  top  there. 
But  there  were  numerous  casualties  among  our  troops,  due  to  the 
activity  of  German  snipers  and  to  accidents.  Then,  too,  the  Ger- 
man artillery  had  such  an  open  sweep  at  the  town  of  Mittlach  and 
the  valley  below  it,  that  several  Americans  were  either  killled  or 
wounded  by  shrapnel.  In  fact,  the  very  evening  that  our  main 
detachment  arrived  in  Mittlach,  a  corporal  of  the  137th  Infantry 
was  killed  by  a  shell  as  he  stood  in  the  street  reading  a  letter.  This 
was  the  first  casualty  in  the  regiment,  so  the  chaplain  decided  to 
give  the  man  a  military  funeral,  firing  squad  and  all.  He  made 
the  funeral  arrangements  over  the  telephone  and  set  the  time  for 
the  funeral  at  9  o'clock  the  next  evening.  The  time  for  the  funeral 
came  and  the  procession  was  just  leaving  the  Alpine  Ambulance 
when  the  German  artillery  again  began  shelling  the  town.  There 
were,  by  actual  count,  just  twenty-two  men  in  the  street  when  the 
first  three-inch  shell  came  whining  towards  the  town.  It  took 
one  of  those  shells  about  six  seconds  to  reach  Mittlach  after  it 
could  first  be  heard,  and  when  the  first  one  exploded  nearby,  half 
of  those  twenty-two  men  had  already  scrambled  into  the  door  of 
the  nearest  dugout.  And  it  was  only  an  average  size  door  at  that. 
This  was  the  first  real  shelling  most  of  the  twenty-two  men  had 
experienced,  yet  they  took  to  cover  as  if  they  were  used  to  doing 
it.  On  another  occasion  a  sudden  bombardment  caught  Lt.  Speck 
and  Lt.  Martin  unawares.  A  three-inch  shrapnel  ushered  them 
around  a  corner  and  into  a  dugout  in  record  time — the  one  ahead 
trying  to  keep  ahead,  and  the  one  behind,  trying  his  best  to  get 
ahead. 

The  ruined  town  of  Metzeral  was  the  foremost  point  occupied 
by  any  of  our  litter  squads  at  Mittlach.  It  was  in  the  main  valley 
to  the  south  and  east  of  Mittlach.  The  American  trenches  ran 
zig-zag  through  the  town — along  tumble-down  walls,  into  old  cellars 
and  basements,  through  neglected  gardens,  and  around  the  corner 
of  the  ruined  church  itself.  One  ducked  instinctively  as  he  passed 
some  of  the  low  places  in  the  walls,  for  the  German  trenches  were 
visible  a  few  hundred  yards  away  on  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
valley. 

The  ambulance  work  at  Mittlach  and  Larchey  was  done  partly 
by  the  mule  ambulances  of  Ambulance  Company  140  and  partly 
by  the  Fords  of  the  S.  S.  U.  outfit.  From  the  various  advance  aid 
stations,  the  patients  were  transported  by  ambulance  to  a  relay 
station  called  Treh,  situated  about  five  kilos  back  of  Larchev- 
Lt.  Hancock,  of  Ambulance  Company  137  was  in  charge  at  Treh, 
having  two  motor  and  two  mule  drawn  ambulances  ready  to  receive 
and  transport  the  patients  back  to  the  various  Field  Hospitals, 
which  were  located  at  Kruth  and  neighboring  towns,  well  out  of 
range  of  the  German  guns. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          31 


On  the  whole,  the  time  spent  in  the  Wesserling  sector  was  a 
period  of  training  for  our  company,  and  in  fact  for  the  whole  San- 
itary Train.  We  learned  something  about  maps  and  trails,  and 
especially  that  trails  on  maps  and  trails  on  mountain  sides  are 
two  very  different  things.  We  learned  also  to  respect  our  gas 
masks  and  helmets.  They  became  our  constant  companions.  In- 
deed, the  sight  of  school  children  six  and  eight  years  old  going 
through  gas  mask  drill  in  the  streets  of  Mittlach  was  enough  to 
make  anyone  think  about  his  gas  mask.  All  the  civilians  there 
carried  masks  as  they  went  about  their  daily  work.  We  learned 
too,  the  value  of  camouflage  along  the  sides  of  roads,  and  also  the 
wisdom  of  keeping  behind  it.  The  litter  bearers  learned  to  handle 
patients  in  all  sorts  of  tight  places,  and  they  did  their  work  cred- 
itably. We  saw  a  little  example  of  German  propaganda,  also.  On 
June  30th  the  Boche  sent  small  balloons  over  our  lines,  and  to  the 
balloons  they  attached  cards  bearing  the  following  message  on 
both  sides: 

"Soldiers  of  the  U.  S.  A. 

As  we  hear  from  your  comrades  seized  by  us,  your  officers  say 
that  we  kill  prisoners  of  war  or  do  them  some  other  harm. 
Don't  be  such  Greenhorns! 
How  can  you  smart  Americans  believe  such  a  silly  thing?" 

Needless  to  say,  this  sort  of  propaganda  made  no  impression 
on  the  American  troops. 

We  spent  nearly  a  month  in  the  Wesserling  sector.  At  the 
end  of  that  time,  Ambulance  Company  137  relieved  us  at  Larchey, 
and  Ambulance  Company  140  at  Mittlach.  We  were  glad  to  move 
back  across  the  boundary  line  into  France  and  settle  in  the  sleepy 
little  village  of  Ventron,  where  we  could  hang  up  our  gas  masks 
and  helmets,  and  almost  forget  there  was  a  war. 

VENTRON. 

Ventron,  a  typical  French  village,  nestles  in  a  peaceful  valley. 
To  the  right  of  the  town  a  broad  green  meadow  stretches  out,  to 
be  broken  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  by  a  small,  sparkling  stream 
of  water.  The  crude  stone  houses,  few  in  number,  are  built  adjoin- 
ing each  other,  forming  irregular  lines.  A  large,  quaint,  high- 
steepled  church,  one  shop,  several  cafes  and  one  hotel,  probably 
patronized  by  tourists  in  summer,  make  up  the  town.  The  prevail- 
ing cleanliness  of  Ventron  naturally  impressed  us.  Without  ex- 
ception, it  was  the  cleanest  town  in  which  we  were  billeted  during 
our  stay  in  France. 

Needless  to  say,  a  sigh  of  satisfaction  could  be  heard  when 
word  reached  us  to  the  effect  that  we  would  be  billeted  in  barracks, 
instead  of  the  usual  hay  mow.  Having  learned  to  adapt  ourselves 


32         HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


to  the  surroundings,  most  of  us  were  by  this  time  able  to  carry  on 
a  speaking  conversation  with  all  domestic  animals,  so  this  change 
to  cleaner  barracks  somewhat  elated  us,  for  we  would  no  doubt 
feel  more  like  human  beings. 

Our  duties  were  few,  consisting  of  "setting  up  exercises"  and 
perhaps  a  two-hour  hike  in  the  morning,  and  gas  mask  drill  (a  most 
unpleasant  duty)  in  the  afternoon.  It  was  on  one  of  our  hikes  that 
we  discovered  in  a  secluded  spot  on  the  mountain  top  an  old  priest's 
hermitage.  Here  in  a  small  white  stone  shack  lived  this  eccentric 
old  man  and  worshipped  in  his  peculiar  way. 

Huckleberries  and  other  wild  berries  grew  abundantly  on  the 
hillsides,  and  oftentimes  while  we  were  there  a  volunteer  squad 
issued  forth  with  pails,  to  return  later  with  pails  loaded  to  the  brim 
with  berries.  And  each  evening  by  the  candle  light,  with  "seven- 
and-a-half"  in  vogue,  we  commented  most  favorably  upon  those 
delicious  huckleberry  pies,  just  like  the  ones  mother  used  to  make. 

During  our  stay  at  Ventron  a  detail  of  fifteen  men  was  sent 
to  Kruth,  15  kilometres  away,  to  oversee  the  erecting  of  a  field 
hospital.  From  reports  that  came  back,  our  men  were  the  engi- 
neers, and  were  forced  to  do  most  of  the  work,  much  to  their 
dismay. 

Here  also  a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  secretary  came  to  our  company,  and 
through  him  on  several  occasions  we  were  delightfully  entertained. 
We  were  now  able  to  purchase  cigars,  cigarettes,  chocolate  and  other 
necessities  of  soldier  life. 

Bathing  facilities  were  of  the  poorest — in  fact,  none  at  all,  as 
a  bathtub  is  a  rare  luxury  among  the  French  small-town  people. 
Few  of  us  were  bold  enough  to  brave  the  cold  mountain  stream  for 
a  plunge.  After  things  had  reached  a  climax,  in  that  any  time 
during  the  day  a  man  could  be  seen  frantically  scratching  himself 
in  a  dozen  places  at  once,  and  singing  "They  Go  Wild,  Simply  Wild 
Over  Me,"  the  company  marched  to  Cornimont,  the  nearest  town, 
where  we  were  "decootized,"  that  is,  we  were  given  a  bath  and  all 
of  our  clothing  was  sterilized. 

One  evening  at  the  hotel  several  of  us  ate  our  first  "horse 
steak,"  at  least  we  were  told  that  it  was  such,  and  the  more  we 
thought  of  it  the  more  we  believed  it  true.  After  three  weeks 
of  this  life,  with  plenty  of  good  food,  sleep,  exercise  and  entertain- 
ment, we  were  eager  to  be  back  in  the  fray.  Moving  orders  came, 
and  early  in  August  we  took  over  our  second  sector  of  the  line. 

LE  COLLET 

August  12th,  the  day  we  left  Ventron,  was  hot,  and  being 
crowded  into  a  dusty  truck  added  nothing  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
trip.  We  wound  up  and  up  the  sides  of  the  picturesque  Vosges 


LOOKING    NORTHWEST    INTO    VARENNES. 


CHAUDRON    EME.    AND    MOXTREBKAU    WOOD. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          33 


mountains,  passing  many  an  old  Frenchman  plodding  along  with 
his  oxen  and  logging  wagon.  Once  we  pulled  into  the  gutter  to 
let  a  long  truck  train  pass,  going  down  the  hill.  Shortly  afterwards 
one  of  our  trucks,  heavily  loaded  with  litters,  boxes  and  men,  ran 
into  a  hole  and  came  near  tipping  over  the  steep  bank.  After  about 
two  hours'  work  it  was  gotten  out,  although  it  had  to  be  unloaded 
and  reloaded.  No  further  trouble  was  encountered,  and  we  reached 
the  top  of  the  hill  in  due  time.  After  the  hustle  and  bustle  of 
unloading  we  had  supper.  After  supper  everyone  began  to  look 
for  a  spot  to  sleep,  and  most  of  the  men  ended  the  search  by 
making  beds  on  the  grass  on  the  hillside. 

It  was  dark  when  we  arrived  at  Le  Collet,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing we  had  our  first  view  of  the  camp.  Situated  on  a  high  range 
of  hills,  it  would  have  commanded  a  wonderful  view  of  the  sur- 
rounding country  but  for  the  tall  trees  which  covered  the  hills  in 
every  direction.  The  camp  was  composed  of  several  long,  low 
French  barracks,  arranged  in  haphazard  style  on  one  side  of  the 
road  on  the  hilltop,  and  many  more  down  the  valley,  between  and 
on  both  sides  of  the  forked  road  leading  down  to  the  city  of 
Gerardmer,  about  twenty  kilometres  distant.  One  of  the  barracks 
on  the  hilltop,  just  at  the  fork  of  the  road,  was  used  for  a  triage, 
our  office,  supply  room  and  sleeping  quarters  for  several  men. 
About  one  hundred  feet  back  of  this  barrack,  and  reached  by  a 
nairow  rock  road,  was  a  big  shed  used  for  housing  Gen.  McClure's 
limousine  and  one  or  two  Ford  ambulances.  To  one  side  of  this 
road  and  just  in  front  of  the  shed  was  our  kitchen,  covered  by  a 
fly  tent. 

A  French  canteen,  Red  Cross,  Y.  M.  C.  A.  and  Major  du  Can- 
tonement  occupied  the  remainder  of  the  hilltop  barracks.  Across 
the  road  from  the  triage  was  a  large  barnlike  structure  which 
served  as  the  terminal  of  the  electric  tramway.  This  tramway  con- 
nected Le  Collet  with  Gerardmer  by  a  steam  road  which  came  about 
half  way.  Its  many  cars  groaning  up  and  down  the  hill  was  one 
of  the  most  noticeable  features  of  Le  Collet.  It  was  used  for  bring- 
ing up  supplies  and  also  to  evacuate  patients  to  the  hospitals  at 
Gerardmer. 

The  69th  Infantry  Brigade  was  ordered  to  take  over  from  the 
French  the  sector  immediately  north  of  the  front  being  held  at  that 
time  by  the  70th  Brigade.  We  were  ordered  to  accompany  the 
brigade  and  evacuate  it  to  Field  Hospital  138,  which  went  into 
action  at  the  little  summer  resort  town  of  Gerardmer.  We  were 
to  establish  a  triage  at  the  camp  of  Le  Collet,  which  was  perched 
on  top  of  the  divide  which  formerly  marked  the  boundary  line 
between  France  and  Germany. 

Our  work  in  this  sector,  except  that  of  the  triage,  was  carried 
on  at  three  advanced  dressing  stations  and  a  relay  station.  Run- 
ning from  south  to  north,  the  dressing  stations  were  Nicholas, 


34  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Morlier  and  Richard.  The  relay  post  was  at  Spitzenfels,  situated 
on  the  road  from  Le  Collet,  where  it  forked  to  go  to  Nicholas  and 
Morlier. 

The  work  at  Nicholas  was  taken  over  by  Lieut.  Siberts  and  a 
detachment  of  twenty-five  men,  who  established  a  dressing  station 
in  connection  with  the  French  Alpine  Ambulance  Service.  The 
entire  detachment,  with  the  exception,  of  six  men  who  remained  at 
the  station,  was  sent  to  the  battalion  aid  stations  to  act  as  litter 
bearers,  their  duties  consisting  of  carrying  patients  from  the  bat- 
talion aid  stations  to  the  ambulance  station.  Detachments  were  also 
sent  out  to  Moriez,  Miradore,  Jourdan,  Eck  and  Amphersbach. 

The  activities  in  this  area  were  very  small,  consisting  princi- 
pally of  sniping  by  machine  guns  and  an  occasional  artillery  duel. 
The  latter  sometimes  became  interesting  to  the  party  at  Nicholas, 
because  the  artillery  was  directly  behind  the  station  and  the  arc 
of  fire  was  overhead,  both  for  the  Boche  and  our  own  boys.  Many 
were  the  times  when  they  all  ducked  for  a  friendly  dugout  door, 
to  the  tune  of  a  screaming  shell. 

In  connection  with  this  station  there  was  a  motorcycle  with 
litter  sidecar  operated  by  an  Englishman.  He  carried  all  single 
cases  to  Spitzenfels  thus  relieving  the  ambulances  from  extra  runs. 
This  Englishman  was  a  good  scout  and  was  liked  by  all. 

Lieut.  Siberts  was  relieved  a  few  days  after  the  station  was 
established  by  a  lieutenant  of  the  162  Ambulance  Company,  and 
reported  at  the  company  triage  to  operate  that  station. 

The  detail  for  the  dressing  station  at  Morlier  left  Le  Collet 
shortly  after  dinner  on  August  13th,  under  command  of  Lieut.  Var- 
don.  Our  program  was  to  go  by  truck  to  Spitzenfels,  where,  after 
dark,  for  much  of  the  road  to  be  traveled  was  under  enemy  obser- 
vation, we  were  to  be  picked  up  by  a  supply  train  and  taken  to 
our  destination.  But  the  best  laid  plans  will  sometimes  go  wrong, 
and  in  this  case  a  confusion  of  orders  stopped  the  supply  train 
before  it  had  gone  far,  and  there  was  nothing  for  us  to  do  but 
proceed  on  foot.  The  road  was  a  long  one,  winding  up  the  moun- 
tainside, past  the  ruins  of  many  buildings  that  had  once  been  the 
homes  of  shepherds,  lighted  up  now  and  then  by  a  brilliant  star- 
shell,  while  an  occasional  rifle  shot,  or  rather  a  machine  gun, 
sounding  almost  underneath  us,  broke  the  silence.  Finally  about 
midnight,  after  following  the  many  twists  and  turns  in  the  road, 
each  of  which  it  seemed  must  be  the  last,  we  arrived  at  our  destina- 
tion. 

Morlier  was  situated  about  five  miles  north  of  Nicholas,  on 
the  same  ridge  of  hills.  It  was  built  on  the  opposite  side  of  a 
small  hill  from  the  lines,  and  about  a  quarter  mile  distant.  Dug- 
outs and  small  shacks  formed  the  principal  part  of  the  camp,  and 
most  of  the  best  dugouts  had  heavy  half-circular  corrugated  steel 
ceilings.  This  metal  was  painted  white  to  make  the  interior  light. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  35 


Several  rooms  in  the  Alpine  Ambulance  Station  were  fixed  this  way. 
The  dressing  station  was  established  in  the  Alpine  Ambulance. 
Lieut.  Vardon  and  about  nine  men  formed  the  personnel  of  this 
place.  The  one  outpost  was  Barbarot,  about  a  half  mile  to  the 
north.  Morlier  was  approachable  by  night  only  by  a  rock  road 
which  wound  up  the  hillside  in  full  view  of  the  German  lines.  In 
daylight  the  only  safe  way  was  by  a  gallery  about  a  mile  long 
which  ran  over  the  hill  from  Camp  Bouquet,  a  branch  of  which 
ran  down  to  Barbarot.  The  gallery  was  a  trench  about  six  feet 
deep,  sided  up  and  roofed  over  with  branches  and  camouflaged. 

In  the  Alpine  Ambulance  we  found  such  luxuries  as  electric 
lights,  piano  and  talking  machine  and  furniture  much  better  than 
we  had  been  used  to,  all  taken  from  "Altenberg,"  the  former  sum- 
mer home  of  the  Kaiser,  which  was  near  by.  The  French  and 
British  soldiers  there  proved  to  be  excellent  companions  and  treated 
us  royally. 

We  were  close  to  the  lines  and  under  constant  observation,  but 
when  the  first  two  days  passed  uneventfully  our  boldness  grew. 
However,  just  at  supper  time  on  the  third  day  "Jerry"  woke  us  up 
by  planting  eight  shells  in  the  kitchen,  and  from  then  on  did  not 
let  us  forget  that  he  was  near  by.  Bombardments  were  frequent, 
while  wandering  German  patrols  paid  our  vicinity  frequent  visits 
at  night.  Our  work  consisted  mostly  of  handling  the  sick,  as  there 
were  very  few  wounded,  this  being  a  "quiet"  sector. 

Our  stay  was  not  without  its  humorous  incidents,  such  as  the 
time  when  one  of  our  dignified  "non-coms,"  at  the  sound  of  the 
first  exploding  shell,  dove  into  bed,  and,  pulling  the  blankets  over 
his  head,  remarked  that  "even  a  blanket  might  help  some  if  a 
shell  hit,"  and  the  time  when  our  commanding  officer,  deceived 
by  a  false  gas  alarm,  wore  his  gas  mask  for  nearly  three  hours  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  before  discovering  that  we  would  be  breath- 
ing only  the  purest  of  mountain  air  without  it. 

Our  pleasant  stay  at  Morlier  came  to  an  end  when  the  division 
was  relieved  on  the  night  of  September  1st.  The  enemy,  scenting 
a  troop  movement,  kept  up  a  steady  bombardment,  and  it  was  well 
towards  morning  before  we  were  able  to  make  a  getaway.  The 
trip  was  an  exciting  one,  as  it  was  necessary  to  run  a  gauntlet  of 
exploding  shells.  Gas  was  also  encountered,  but,  in  spite  of  it  all, 
we  all  arrived  safely  about  daybreak  at  company  headquarters. 

Richard  was  situated  in  a  narrow  gap  on  the  bank  of  Lac  Noir 
(meaning  Black  Lake).  The  dressing  station  there  was  established 
by  Lieut.  Monteith  and  a  detachment  of  twenty-five  men.  The  out- 
posts were  Vignal  and  Pairis,  and  detachments  of  litter  bearers 
were  sent  to  each  of  those  places,  which  were  occupied  by  the 
Infantry  Battalion  Aid  Stations.  Later  Lieut.  Bates  and  six  men 


36'          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


arrived  from  Rudlin,  where  a  station  had  been  established  but 
abandoned.  Relay  litter  squads  were  formed,  thus  making  the 
work  lighter. 

The  men  on  outpost  duty  at  Paris  were  billeted  in  an  old 
hotel  basement,  where  there  was  running  water,  electric  lights  and 
real  beds,  but  even  with  these  luxuries  at  their  disposal  they  can 
hardly  be  said  to  have  had  an  enjoyable  time.  This  hotel  had  a 
road  running  alongside,  and  whenever  anyone  appeared  in  the 
road,  the  Boche  immediately  opened  up  on  the  hotel  with  high  ex- 
plosives and  shrapnel.  The  boys  got  to  be  experts  at  hitting  the 
cellar  entrance  on  a  moment's  notice — in  fact,  they  stayed  pretty 
close  to  it  at  all  times,  unless  at  the  kitchen,  which  was  about  three 
hundred  yards  distant. 

The  outpost  at  Vignal  was  not  so  well  situated,  but  was  rarely 
shelled.  This  party  took  part  in  a  raid  which  was  pulled  off  just 
before  they  were  relieved.  They  went  out  with  the  raiding  party 
to  its  starting  point  and  remained  until  the  raid  was  over,  when 
they  evacuated  the  wounded  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  below  Richard, 
from  where  the  litter  cases  were  taken  to  the  top  of  the  hill  by 
squads  from  Richard.  At  Richard  there  was  big  preparation  when 
word  of  the  intended  raid  was  received.  Two  spare  ambulances 
and  twelve  men  were  ordered  out  from  Le  Collet.  When  the  word 
was  telephoned  up  that  three  litter  cases  were  on  the  way,  a  detach- 
ment of  nineteen  men  went  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill  and  brought 
the  wounded  to  the  station,  where  they  were  dressed  and  sent  to 
the  triage. 

The  work  of  both  the  outposts  was  highly  complimented  by 
the  battalion  surgeons.  The  Americans  at  Richard  were  relieved 
by  French  Colonials.  In  coming  in,  the  French  seemed  to  have 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  Boche,  and  as  a  result  they  received 
an  unmerciful  shelling.  One  litter  case  and  two  walking  cases  was 
the  toll,  and  they  were  evacuated  through  our  station,  much  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  French  authorities. 

On  August  13th  a  detachment  of  six  men  and  two  ambulances 
was  sent  from  Le  Collet  to  the  relay  post  at  Spitzenfels.  Ambu- 
lances and  drivers  from  the  162nd  Ambulance  Company,  41st 
Division,  were  attached  to  our  company  to  furnish  motor  trans- 
portation to  and  from  the  different  stations,  as  we  had  no  ambu- 
lances at  that  time.  Spitzenfels  was  a  French  Red  Cross  post  and 
an  ambulance  relay  station.  It  was  located  on  a  mountain  side 
in  the  midst  of  a  thick  pine  forest  and  at  a  junction  of  the  Paris- 
Strassburg  road,  about  three  kilometres  inside  of  the  France-Alsace 
boundary  line.  The  place  had  not  been  shelled  by  the  Germans  for 
four  years  and  was  very  quiet.  The  billets  were  comfortable  and 
rainproof,  making  it  an  ideal  place  to  stay. 

Upon  first  taking  over  the  station  at  Spitzenfels  we  worked 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          37 


with  the  French  medical  men,  but  they  soon  left,  leaving  the  entire 
station  to  us.  The  duties  were  comparatively  light,  consisting  of 
making  a  sick  call  at  9  A.  M.  to  two  infantry  aid  stations,  and 
transferring  the  sick  and  wounded  back  to  the  triage.  Another  duty 
was  to  give  out  Red  Cross  supplies,  mostly  tobacco  and  hot  choco- 
late, to  the  passing  soldiers.  Most  of  the  Red  Cross  business  was 
with  the  French  troop,  as  very  few  of  the  American  forces  knew 
of  the  station,  and  thus  were  unable  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

At  the  triage  Lieut.  Siberts  was  in  charge,  with  the  assistance 
of  a  sergeant  and  three  men,  and  their  work  testified  that  they  were 
on  the  job.  They  had  to  unload  all  ambulances,  register  all  cases, 
sort  out  the  ones  for  the  various  hospitals  and  reload  them  into  the 
ambulances,  or  onto  the  tram  car.  They  were  compelled  to  work 
at  all  hours. 

One  incident  to  be  long  remembered  by  all  the  company  was 
the  big  fire  of  the  truck  at  Le  Collet  on  the  night  all  the  posts  were 
relieved.  Two  men  were  attempting  to  fill  a  Fierce-Arrow  truck 
with  gasoline,  by  the  aid  of  a  candle,  when  there  was  an  explosion 
and  the  entire  truck  caught  fire.  The  blaze  shot  thirty  feet  into 
the  air  and  could  be  seen  for  miles  around.  It  was  a  wonder  that 
the  place  was  not  shelled,  because  it  was  as  light  as  day  and  crowded 
with  soldiers. 

On  September  1st  the  order  came  to  move  again,  and  the  old 
routine  of  packing  and  loading  was  on.  We  were  not  sorry  to  leave 
Le  Collet,  because  our  stay  had  not  been  long  enough  to  let  us 
become  attached  to  the  place.  We  were  not  sorry,  for  another 
reason.  Rumor  was,  now  that  our  training  was  over,  that  we  were 
to  go  north  and  take  active  part  in  the  great  battles  that  were  then 
raging  on  the  western  front.  The  term  "shock  troops"  came  into 
use,  and  all  were  proud  to  belong  to  a  division  so  designated.  With 
our  movement  came  orders  to  turn  over  our  dressing  stations  and 
triage  to  Ambulance  Company  39,  of  the  6th  Division.  This  was 
their  first  trip  up  to  the  front,  and  as  none  of  them  had  ever  heard 
a  Boche  shell  ring,  we  had  a  lot  of  fun  yarning  to  them  about  the 
things  they  would  soon  experience. 


THE  MARCH  FROM  LUNEVILLE  TO  BENNEY 

After  being  relieved  in  the  Vosges  sector  by  the  6th  Division, 
headquarters  of  the  35th  Division  was  moved  from  Gerardmer  to 
Rosieres,  a  rest  camp  in  the  Luneville  area.  In  the  evening  of 
September  2nd  we  left  Le  Collet  in  trucks,  and  arrived  at  Barbey- 
Seroux  about  midnight.  Pup  tents  were  pitched  in  an  open  field, 
and  for  two  days  and  nights  they  served  as  our  homes. 

At  9  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  September  4th  the  entire  110th 


38  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Sanitary  Train  started  on  the  march  for  the  railhead  at  La  Haus- 
siere,  about  fourteen  kilos  away.  Full  field  equipment  was  carried 
by  each  man,  and  a  lunch,  consisting  of  one  bacon  and  one  jam 
sandwich,  which  turned  out  to  be  the  only  rations  for  the  next 
twenty-eight  hours. 

Arriving  at  La  Haussiere  about  1  P.  M.,  the  sanitary  train 
boarded  the  box  cars.  A  previous  train  carrying  troops  on  this 
route  had  been  attacked  by  Boche  airplanes,  so  we  had  machine 
guns  mounted  on  a  flat  car  to  be  prepared  for  any  which  might 
attack  us.  Fortunately,  or  unfortunately,  we  saw  none  and  so 
missed  what  would  have  been  an  interesting  experience. 

The  destination  of  this  trip  was  to  be  Benney.  The  trucks 
carrying  the  kitchen  and  supplies  went  overland,  and  the  intention 
was  that  there  should  be  a  hot  supper  waiting  for  us  on  our  arrival. 
The  railroad  passed  through  several  towns  within  a  very  short  dis- 
tance of  Benney,  and  why  we  didn't  detrain  at  one  of  these  has 
always  been  a  deep,  dark  mystery.  At  the  time  we  were  on  the 
train  we  did  not  know  what  our  destination  was  to  be,  and  we  only 
found  out  after  reaching  Luneville  at  8  P.  M.  that  we  were  con- 
fronted with  the  necessity  of  retracing  a  large  part  of  our  trip — but 
this  time  on  foot,  and  supperless  to  boot. 

While  we  were  waiting  for  the  140th  Ambulance  Company  to 
unload  its  mules  and  ambulances  we  laid  down  upon  the  muddy 
sidewalks  and  watched  the  powerful  flashlights  searching  the  sky 
for  Boche  airplanes.  Luneville  was  a  favorite  visiting  place  for 
such  planes,  and  the  shattered  buildings  testified  to  the  accuracy 
of  their  aim. 

About  11  P.  M.  the  column  was  formed  and  began  to  move  on 
the  long  and  never-to-be-forgotten  hike  to  Benney.  Ambulance 
Company  139  was  the  last  marching  company,  with  Ambulance 
Company  140  bringing  up  the  rear.  The  orders  were  no  lights,  and 
only  men  tagged  sick  would  be  allowed  to  ride  in  the  twelve  mule 
ambulances. 

Major  Salisbury  was  in  command  of  the  train,  and  at  1  A.  M. 
ordered  a  halt  of  two  hours.  Some  of  the  men  unrolled  their 
packs  and  wrapped  themselves  in  their  blankets,  while  others  laid 
down  in  the  mud  and  managed  to  get  a  little  sleep,  covered  only 
by  their  raincoats.  When  the  column  resumed  the  march  several 
of  the  men  were  left  sleeping  peacefully  alongside  of  the  road, 
against  trees  or  upon  piles  of  rocks.  Here  we  nearly  lost  Lieut. 
Bates,  who  fortunately  awoke  just  as  the  last  ambulance  was  pass- 
ing by. 

It  soon  began  to  rain,  and  by  3:30  the  men  were  splashing 
through  a  regular  downpower.  When  the  orders  to  fall  in  were 
passed  back,  most  of  the  men  would  turn  their  backs,  and  give 
their  faces  a  brief  rest  from  the  stinging  cuts  of  the  rain.  Others 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  39 


would  sink  down  on  the  roadside,  regardless  of  mud  or  water.  It 
was  a  wierd  looking  lot  of  soldiers  that  marched  into  Blainville, 
with  raincoats  thrown  over  their  heads  and  packs  to  prevent  them, 
especially  the  latter,  from  becoming  soaked  with  rain.  Many  here 
found  an  empty  hayloft  and  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  sleep,  leaving 
the  column  to  struggle  on  without  them. 

As  the  eastern  sky  was  beginning  to  show  signs  of  the  welcome 
daybreak,  the  rain  diminished  to  a  light  but  uncomfortable  drizzle. 
Slowly  but  steadily  the  column  moved  on  through  the  towns  of 
Rehainville,  Haussonville  and  Velle-sur-Meuse.  Upon  entering  each 
small  town  every  man  in  the  train  was  hoping  that  that  would  be 
the  end  of  the  hike.  The  morning  of  the  5th  wore  away,  and  as 
the  wet  and  weary  column  continued  to  leave  town  after  town 
behind,  the  men  came  to  the  conclusion  that  we  were  "lost  again," 
and  that  we  were  doubling  back  toward  Bayon,  through  which  they 
had  passed  the  day  before  on  the  train. 

Since  daybreak  straggling  had  become  general.  After  leaving 
Haussonville  there  was  hardly  a  kilo  that  did  not  claim  its  group 
of  stragglers.  The  heavy  laden  plum  trees  along  the  roadside 
helped  thin  the  ranks,  because  the  men  had  had  nothing  to  eat 
for  breakfast  but  a  few  pieces  of  water-soaked  bacon  and  bread. 
During  one  of  the  hourly  ten-minue  rest  periods  Tony  Cataldi,  who 
was  perched  up  in  a  plum  tree  enjoying  the  delicious  plums,  was 
seen  by  a  passing  officer  and  immediately  ordered  down.  Unable 
to  see  who  was  giving  the  order,  on  account  of  the  leaves  and  rain, 
he  inquired  with  true  Italian  curiosity,  "Who  in  de  h — 1  are  you?" 
He  soon  found  out  that  the  officer  was  in  command  of  the  column. 

As  the  men  continued  their  weary  way  there  was  little  talking — 
the  men  had  enough  to  do  in  keeping  going.  By  this  time  the  com- 
panies were  reduced  to  platoons,  for  buck  privates,  non-coms  and 
even  company  commanders  were  falling  out.  The  only  thing  that 
kept  the  rest  going  was  pride.  Pride  would  not  allow  them  to  drop 
out  while  others  were  "making  the  riffle." 

The  last  mile  told.  The  long  hill  that  hid  the  little  town  of 
Benney  was  lined  with  the  men  who  had  fallen  out.  Just  twenty- 
eight  men  out  of  the  ninety  that  left  Luneville  with  our  company 
pulled  into  the  town  about  11:30  a.  m.  They  had  made  the  entire 
trip  without  dropping  out  or  having  their  packs  hauled.  They  had 
marched  14  kilos,  ridden  seven  hours  in  box  cars,  and  then  marched 
41  kilos  more,  all  this  on  a  two-sandwich  ration,  and  through  rain 
and  muddy  roads. 

So  ended  the  hike  to  Benney,  a  hike  whose  only  claim  to  dis- 
tinction is  the  fact  that  it  need  never  have  been  made.  Why  the 
companies  were  not  detrained  at  Bayon,  or  even  Blainville,  through 
which  they  had  passed  on  the  train  and  thereby  saving  15  hours 
of  long  and  weary  hiking,  will  probably  always  remain  a  "military 


40.          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139 


secret."  From  either  of  these  towns  the  march  would  have  been  only 
a  walk.  Efforts  were  made  at  both  places  to  have  the  troops  de- 
trained, but  they  were  unavailing. 


BENNEY  TO  FIVE  TRENCHES 

Immediately  upon  our  arrival  in  the  village  of  Benney  we  were 
billeted  in  haymows,  which  is  the  customary  home  for  the  American 
soldier  in  the  country  of  France.  These  "billets,"  as  they  have 
been  called  by  the  men,  are  usually  located  in  the  haymows  of 
the  French  homes.  The  French  peasant's  home  usually  consists  of 
one  large  building,  in  which  the  entire  family,  including  horses, 
cattle  and  pigs,  is  housed.  While  it  seems  strange  to  us,  who  are 
not  accustomed  to  this  manner  of  living,  they  are  quite  comfortable 
compared  to  pup  tents  in  a  wet,  soggy  forest,  and  especially  at  the 
end  of  a  long  hike  by  night  with  full  equipment. 

Benney  was,  we  believe,  the  dirtiest  village  we  have  been  in 
to  date,  so  consequently  the  next  day  we  had  to  clean  up  the 
manure  piles  and  refuse  left  by  the  populace  of  this  village.  The 
village  had,  at  one  time,  been  occupied  by  the  Hun  armies,  who 
left  their  customary  destructive  earmarks  upon  it.  Those  who 
remain  consist  mainly  of  women,  children  and  men  too  old  for 
work.  It  can  therefore  be  easily  understood  why  its  streets  were 
dirty  and  conditions  in  general  were  neglected. 

We  spent  four  days  in  the  village,  our  duties  being  to  clean 
up  the  streets.  We  had  become  quite  proficient  with  shovels  and 
push-brooms,  by  reason  of  previous  experience,  and  strangely 
enough  the  men  usually  chose  this  duty  in  preference  to  the  daily 
duties  of  kitchen  police  and  guard.  Most  of  us  were  badly  in 
need  of  a  bath,  as  all  soldiers  generally  are,  and  upon  investigating 
discovered  an  old  swimming  hole  which  we  soon  Americanized  by 
taking  a  plunge  every  day  during  our  short  stay  there.  We  were 
entertained  two  evenings  by  the  French  movies  while  here. 

It  was  evident  to  us  that  a  large  troop  movement  was  taking 
place,  and  from  the  many  precautions  taken  to  avoid  observation, 
it  appeared  that  the  movement  was  of  more  than  usual  importance. 
Troops  were  marched  only  at  night  and  no  lights  of  any  kind  were 
permitted,  even  smoking  being  barred  outside  of  cover.  Kitchens 
were  covered  and  mess  lines  were  being  divided  into  sections  so 
that  Boche  planes  could  see  but  a  few  men  at  a  time.  We  were 
told  that  we  must  get  under  cover  and  stay  there  whenever  hostile 
planes  were  about.  No  drilling  was  done  and  every  effort  made 
to  keep  every  evidence  of  the  presence  of  troops  hidden  from 
observation.  All  this  could  mean  but  one  thing — a  big  attack  was 
being  prepared  and  we  would  undoubtedly  be  in  it.  We  were 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  41 


curious  to  know  just  when  and  where  it  would  be,  but  we  had  to 
be  content  with  guessing,  for  the  secret  of  the  St.  Mihiel  drive  was 
well  kept. 

Leaving  Benney,  we  hiked  a  distance  of  13  kilos  to  a  little 
village  called  Haussonville,  arriving  there  at  3:30  A.  M.  We  had 
a  very  sloppy  march  and  passed  our  kitchen  truck,  stuck  in  the 
ditch  by  the  roadside.  Of  all  trucks,  this  should  have  been  the 
one  to  pull  through,  judging  by  the  yearning  in  the  region  of  our 
stomachs.  Immediately  upon  our  arrival  in  Haussonville  we  were 
billeted  in  a  large  barn  and  "hit  the  hay"  for  a  few  hours.  We 
were  soon  awakened  by  the  glad  news  that  our  kitchen  had  arrived, 
was  in  action  and  that  we  would  have  breakfast  at  10.  The  name 
Haussonville  stands  out  prominently  in  the  minds  of  the  boys, 
for  we  recall,  with  a  shudder,  that  this  is  where  we  caught  our  first 
real  batch  of  cooties. 

Dinner  was  served  at  3,  and  after  this  meal  we  again  rolled 
pack  and  had  hopes  of  leaving  this  unwelcome  company  at  8  P.  M., 
but  did  not  until  three  hours  later.  At  last  under  way,  we  hiked 
14  kilos  with  full  packs  and  reached  our  next  destination,  a  salt 
factory  a  few  kilos  from  Nancy.  Though  much  fatigued  by  our 
night  journey,  we  were  somewhat  encouraged  to  find  a  soft  pine 
floor  upon  which  to  rest  our  weary  bones,  and  with  the  aid  of  a 
few  salt  sacks,  which  we  found,  soon  made  ourselves  as  comfortable 
as  possible  under  the  existing  conditions.  After  the  customary  late 
breakfast  and  dinner,  orders  were  received  to  resume  the  hike  as 
soon  as  it  became  dark. 

Darkness  found  us  again  trailing  the  rock  roads  amid  a  steady 
downpour  of  rain.  The  night  grew  darker  and  darker,  until  it  was 
impossible  for  the  men  in  ranks  to  see  each  other.  This  however, 
was  nothing  unusual  and  all  went  well  until  we  suddenly  found 
ourselves  lost  in  the  streets  of  Nancy.  It  was  a  fine  night  for  ducks, 
which  might  have  enjoyed  the  next  three  hours,  but  as  soldiers 
it  was  far  from  pleasant  wandering  around  the  town  aimlessly, 
first  up  one  street  and  then  down  another,  with  a  soggy  pack  upon 
our  backs.  At  last,  righting  ourselves,  we  left  the  c.ity  just  as  it  was 
getting  dawn,  and  continued  our  course. 

Seemingly  endless  lines  of  artillery  regiments  on  their  way 
to  form  the  reserve  for  the  St.  Mihiel  drive,  passed  us  along  the 
road  with  their  caissons  and  guns  of  all  sizes.  Later  an  impressive 
sight  greeted  us  as  we  marched  along.  Dawn  was  breaking  in  the 
east,  but  the  northern  horizon  was  lighted  by  flares  from  the 
muzzles  of  hundreds  of  Allied  guns,  the  intermittent  flashings  of 
which  indicated  to  us  that  the  great  drive  was  in  progress.  Tired, 
hungry  and  foot  sore,  we  pitched  tents  a  little  later  in  the  woods 
safely  concealed  from  enemy  observation. 

Thus   ended   the   long-drawn-out   hike.      We   knew    now   why 


42  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


we  had  been  marched  every  night  and  subjected  to  seemingly  un- 
necessary hardships.  Not  a  man  regretted  the  experience,  and  all 
proud  that  they  helped  form  a  cog  in  the  mighty  machine  which 
straightened  the  St.  Mihiel  salient,  and  marked  the  first  American 
triumph  over  the  Hun. 


FROM  FIVE  TRENCHES  TO  SENARD 

While  at  Five  Trenches,  we  were  in  constant  readiness  to 
move,  and  on  Sept.  18th,  orders  were  received  to  embuss  at  three 
o'clock  P.  M.  Where  we  were  going  we  did  not  know,  but  we  pre- 
pared for  a  ride,  which,  we  were  told  would  be  a  long  one.  A 
short  march  brought  us  to  a  large  number  of  French  trucks  which 
we  boarded,  filling  each  to  its  utmost  capacity. 

The  trip  was  through  a  country  of  rolling  hills,  dotted  with 
the  picturesque  French  villages  with  their  stone  houses  and  red 
tile  roofs.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the  Moselle  was  crossed  and 
we  passed  through  the  outskirts  of  the  ancient  city  of  Toul.  Our 
journey  continued  throughout  the  night  and  after  passing  through 
Bar-le-Duc,  and  Triacourt,  we  arrived  at  our  destination,  the  small 
village  of  Senard,  about  six  o'clock  the  following  morning.  The 
truck  containing  our  kitchen  had  been  sent  on  ahead  to  prepare 
breakfast  for  us  when  we  got  there,  but  with  the  usual  fortune  of 
the  kitchen  buss,  it  had  been  mis-instructed  and  so  it  was  afternoon 
before  it  arrived  to  fill  the  stomachs  of  the  very  hungry  soldiers. 

Our  billet  was  a  large  barn,  over  a  hundred  years  old,  in  which 
the  whole  company  was  housed.  Its  bunks  with  straw  mattresses 
were  a  welcome  change  after  sleeping  on  the  ground  in  the  forest. 
It  had  at  one  time  been  quarters  for  German  soldiers,  for  in  1914 
when  the  army  of  the  Kaiser  poured  into  France,  Senard  had  been 
occupied  for  about  nine  days.  Although  the  city  shows  plainly 
the  scars  of  battle,  it  was  fortunate  compared  to  some  of  the  neigh- 
boring villages,  many  of  which  were  complete  ruins. 

The  stay  here  was  a  short  one.  We  left  on  the  night  of  Sept. 
18th  and  marched  for  several  hours  along  roads  already  crowded 
with  artillery  and  supply  trains  moving  toward  the  front,  and 
shortly  after  dark  pitched  pup  tents  at  Camp  Wagon,  in  the  heart 
of  the  Argonne  Forest.  The  few  days  spent  here  passed  unevent- 
fully; even  pay  day  failing  to  cause  its  usual  enthusiasm,  for  what 
good  was  money  in  the  heart  of  a  forest?  An  occasional  barrage 
sounding  nearby  kept  us  on  the  alert,  for  we  imagined  each  one 
to  be  the  prelude  to  the  big  drive  we  knew  we  were  soon  to  engage 
in. 

Finally,  definite  information  came  and  it  left  us  rather  dazed, 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  43 


causing  many  of  us  to  write  home  letters  that  we  thought  might 
possibly  be  the  last  ones.  We  learned  that  the  greatest  offensive 
of  the  war  was  about  to  take  place,  extending  from  the  North  Sea 
to  the  Moselle  river.  Also,  and  what  was  more  to  the  point,  that 
on  that  part  of  the  front  to  be  taken  by  the  American  Army  the 
position  assigned  to  the  35th  Division  to  reduce  was  expected  to 
be  the  most  difficult  to  take.  Our  division  had  the  honor  positions 
on  the  whole  front. 


MEUSE-ARGONNE  OFFENSIVE 

Our  part  in  the  offensive  began  the  night  of  the  25th  of  Sep- 
tember. Orders  were  received  to  move  up  to  Bourelles  as  soon  as 
it  should  become  dark.  Camp  was  struck  and  supplies  were  stacked 
along  side  the  road  before  dark  so  that  we  would  be  able  to  find 
them  when  the  time  came. 

A  vast  sense  of  relief  settled  down  over  every  one  as  we  real- 
ized that  the  time  which  we  had  enlisted  for,  trained  for,  worked 
and  waited  for  was  finally  at  hand,  and  that  by  morning  we  would 
be  doing  our  work  over  in  the  Boche  trenches  instead  of  on  our 
own  side  of  the  line. 

As  soon  as  it  was  dark  we  got  our  stuff  packed  into  the  trucks 
and  packed  ourselves  in  on  top,  mud  and  all,  and  started  for  Ger- 
many. The  roads  were  muddy  and  slippery  and  often  the  convoy 
was  held  up  until  a  truck  could  be  pulled  out  of  the  ditch.  No 
lights  were  allowed — the  roads  were  under  shell  fire  and  no 
chances  were  taken  in  showing  troop  movements  to  the  ever  vigilant 
enemy  aeroplanes.  Several  times  we  were  led  astray,  but  finally, 
about  midnight  we  arrived  at  Bourelles. 

Here  we  unloaded  the  trucks  behind  the  protection  of  a  steep 
bank  and  the  men  settled  down  on  the  rocks  and  grass  for  a  few 
hours'  rest,  while  the  cooks  borrowed  a  fire  and  began  to  prepare 
soup  for  breakfast.  We  did  not  secure  much  sleep.  Jerry  was 
sending  over  a  few  in  search  of  some  of  our  "heavies,"  but  it  was 
these  same  heavy  guns  that  most  disturbed  our  rest.  The  crack  of 
these  guns  whipped  across  the  valley  with  such  a  force  that  the 
hills  fairly  shook.  They  were  not  firing  very  fast  but  what  they 
lacked  in  speed  they  made  up  in  noise. 

At  2:30  A.  M.  our  fire  opened  up  in  earnest  and  the  thought 
of  being  on  the  receiving  end  of  that  terrific  rain  of  steel  was 
almost  enough  to  cause  a  little  pity  for  the  Germans — almost.  With 
the  coming  of  dawn  the  artillery  seemed  to  slacken  and  at  6:05 
the  doughboys  went  over  the  top.  Little  could  be  seen  through 
the  haze  and  smoke  by  those  who  waited.  We  could  see  the  groups 
of  airplanes  go  sailing  overhead  and  the  elephant-shaped  obser- 


44  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


vation  balloons  move  snail-like  in  a  race  to  the  enemy  lines.  While 
the  big  guns  were  methodically  sending  over  their  "messages  of 
hate,"  here  and  there  could  be  seen  groups  of  horses  nibbling  un- 
concernedly at  the  trampled  grass,  while  their  drivers  were  wrapped 
up  in  shelter  halves  catching  a  well  earned  rest. 

After  a  reconnaissance  had  been  made,  we  received  the  order 
from  our  Dirctor  of  Ambulances,  Maj.  Wm.  Gist,  to  advance.  We 
piled  into  the  trucks  again  and  started  forward.  The  effects  of 
Jerry's  fire  could  now  be  seen.  The  large  shell  holes,  the  demol- 
ished trees,  the  shattered  buildings,  were  beginning  to  make  us 
realize  that  we  were  fighting  some  force  that  had  the  power  to 
fight  back.  We  passed  through  several  ruined  villages  and  finally 
reached  Neuvilly,  which  was  the  end  of  the  road  for  motors  at 
that  time.  Here  we  unloaded  and  were  heavily  equipped  with  lit- 
ters, packs,  medicine  belts  and  extra  shell  wound  dressings. 

The  plan  of  operations  was  quite  simple.  The  company  was 
divided  into  sections,  each  under  an  officer,  and  each  section  fur- 
ther divided  into  litter  squads  of  four  men  each.  The  non-coms 
were  charged  with  locating  wounded  and  directing  litter  squads 
to  them,  and  also  with  doing  most  of  the  dressing.  The  wounded 
were  to  be  gathered  into  groups  located  so  that  ambulances  could 
reach  and  evacuate  them  to  the  triage  which  was  established  later 
in  the  day  at  Neuvilly,  by  Ambulance  Company  138.  The  entire 
company,  less  cooks,  took  to  the  field  and  the  cooks,  by  trading 
grub  for  transportation,  managed  to  keep  in  touch  with  part  of 
us  part  of  the  time. 

Lieut.  Bates  with  his  section  covered  the  rear  of  the  137th 
Infantry  which  was  on  the  left.  Lieut.  Siberts  with  a  detachment, 
bore  to  the  right,  covering  the  138th  Infantry,  while  Lieut.  Monteith, 
with  his  detachment  undertook  to  handle  some  wounded  who  were 
already  coming  into  the  old  position  of  the  138th  Infantry.  Lt. 
Speck  with  Sgt.  Rowland  and  a  few  men  remained  at  Vacquois  Hill 
and  established  a  collecting  station  for  wounded  there. 

As  the  men  marched  thru  the  lines  the  evidences  of  the  super- 
human struggle  grew  more  and  more.  They  could  see  dead  horses, 
shattered  wagons  and  caissons,  trampled  and  torn  up  wire  entangle- 
ments, and  ambulances  darting  here  and  there.  Groups  of  artillery 
were  constantly  shifting  about,  advancing  all  the  time. 

In  places  we  passed  the  long  naval  guns,  some  of  them  so 
hot  that  they  seemed  to  be  fairly  panting.  Every  clump  of  trees 
concealed  a  den  of  seventy-fives  or  larger  guns,  and  miles  of  de- 
serted trenches  were  passed  through. 

The  work  on  hand  was  enough  to  keep  all  the  men  busy.  Many 
German  prisoners  were  coming  through  by  this  time  and  each  group 
helped  by  carrying  back  wounded.  Some  of  the  German  wounded 
were  brought  back  in  this  way  by  their  comrades.  By  this  time, 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          45 


also,  a  shortage  of  litters  began  to  be  felt.  The  ambulances  had 
not  been  able  to  get  up  owing  to  the  blocking  of  the  roads  by 
artillery  which  was  moving  forward.  Towards  evening  ambulances 
began  to  come  in  to  Vacquois,  and  Hill  No.  290.  The  last  load 
of  wounded  had  been  removed  by  about  4:00  A.  M.,  the  next 
morning.  Meanwhile,  Lt.  Siberts  had  reached  Cheppy,  close  on  the 
heels  of  the  victorious  138th  Infantry  and  collected  a  large  number 
of  wounded  there. 

In  crossing  the  German  trenches,  we  saw  the  effects  of  our 
artillery  barrage  and  the  evidences  of  the  fierce  fighting  that  the 
doughboys  were  doing.  The  ground  was  fairly  pulverized.  There 
were  shell  holes  large  enough  to  drop  houses  into,  and  parts  of 
the  hills  were  seemingly  scalped  and  cast  aside.  Concrete  dugouts 
were  crushed  as  if  they  had  been  made  of  cardboard,  trenches 
were  leveled  and  barbwire  entanglements  were  cut  to  pieces.  The 
Germans  had  contested  the  ground  inch  by  inch,  and  we  could  see 
where  groups  of  our  men  had  been  literally  blown  to  pieces — 
scenes  that  the  boys  will  never  forget.  As  we  advanced  further, 
the  evidences  of  the  struggle  were  not  so  ghastly,  although  we 
were  passing  the  lifeless  forms  of  many  Kansas  and  Missouri  boys 
mixed  with  those  of  the  drab  uniforms  of  the  enemy. 

The  field  was  sprinkled  with  shell  holes  whose  burnt  sides 
seem  to  have  been  blasted  by  the  touch  of  hell.  Our  artillery  was 
crawling  forward  and  were  blazing  away  from  behind  the  shelter 
of  clumps  of  bushes.  The  doughboys  were  now  moving  so  swiftly 
that  the  big  guns  could  hardly  keep  up. 

As  we  neared  Cheppy,  we  could  see  where  the  infantry  boys 
had  charged  an  almost  impregnable  machine  gun  nest.  About  thirty 
men  had  been  mowed  down  in  front  of  this  position.  At  a  cross 
roads,  a  big  shell  had  landed  in  the  center  of  a  collection  of 
wounded  doughboys,  tearing  them  to  pieces.  Gas  had  been  used, 
but  nothing  could  stop  the  boys  from  entering  Cheppy.  The  fierce 
struggle  in  this  town  had  caused  heavy  casualties. 

Ambulance  Co.  138  having  moved  up  the  triage  to  Cheppy  on 
the  28th,  Lt.  Siberts  started  for  Charpentry  with  his  detachment. 
By  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  the  entire  company  had  reached 
Cheppy  and  we  had  a  warm  meal,  the  first  one  in  thirty-six  hours. 
Lt.  Siberts  and  his  detachment  deserve  a  great  deal  of  credit  for 
the  tremendous  amount  of  work  they  accomplished  at  Cheppy  in 
an  old  abandoned  dugout,  where  hundreds  of  wounded  were  cared 
for  under  distressing  and  dangerous  conditions. 

Mr.  Wesley  R.  Childs  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  came  up  to  the  sta- 
tion here  with  chocolates  and  was  of  material  assistance  in  direct- 
ing a  party  of  walking  wounded  back  to  Neuvilly  by  the  road 
through  Verennes,  which  we  had  been  unable  to  explore  before. 
During  this  time  the  action  was  in  view  of  the  dressing  station 


46  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


at  times  and  the  sound  of  the  machine  guns  made  it  plain  that 
there  would  be  much  more  work  for  us.  The  dressing  station  at 
Cheppy  was  subjected  to  machine  gun  fire  from  hostile  airplanes 
several  times  but  no  casualties  resulted.  Mule  drawn  ambulances 
from  Ambulance  Co.  140  arrived  at  the  Cheppy  station  in  the 
morning  of  the  27th.  Later,  motor  ambulances  came  up  and  the 
work  of  evacuating  went  steadily  on.  There  was  very  little  rest 
for  anyone. 

On  the  27th,  Lt.  Monteith  with  a  detachment  went  forward  to 
Very,  and  established  another  collection  point  in  some  German 
dugouts  there.  The  next  morning,  evacuation  of  these  wounded 
was  begun  by  ambulances  as  the  congestion  at  Cheppy  was  some- 
what relieved.  Litter  bearer  squads  worked  forward  from  Very 
in  the  direction  of  Charpentry  and  many  wounded  were  collected 
together  and  cared  for  pending  the  arrival  of  mule  drawn  am- 
bulances. In  the  meantime  Ambulance  Co.  137,  and  the  dressing 
station  section  of  Ambulance  Co.  140,  had  arrived  by  trucks  at 
Charpentry.  They  brought  a  large  supply  of  dressings  and  other 
medical  equipment  and  we  were  able  to  replace  the  contents  of 
our  belts.  The  field  from  Very  to  Charpentry  was  thus  cleared, 
and  by  noon  some  of  the  advance  squads  had  reached  Charpentry. 

All  three  companies  worked  together  at  Charpentry  under  the 
direction  of  Maj.  Gist,  and  shared  rations  and  supplies  in  common. 
The  dressing  stations  at  Charpentry  were  located  in  old  French 
barns  and  buildings  set  around  a  sort  of  courtyard.  They  had 
served  until  a  couple  of  days  before  as  the  headquarters  of  the 
German  division  holding  the  sector.  After  the  place  had  been 
examined  to  make  sure  that  no  German  souvenirs  in  the  way  of 
hand  grenades  and  shells  had  been  hidden  within,  we  started  fires 
and  soon  had  some  warm  places  for  dressing  the  wounded.  At 
the  south  end  were  some  empty  buildings  evidently  used  as  store 
rooms  and  an  arched  opening  into  the  court.  On  the  east  side  was 
a  former  dwelling  house  which  contained  several  rooms  on  the 
ground  floor.  All  of  the  second  story  had  been  shot  away.  On 
the  north  end  was  a  large  barn  which  contained  a  small  amount 
of  engineering  stores.  The  other  side  was  open  and  had  a  garden 
which  contained  vegetables  for  the  Germans.  This  spot  was  later 
used  to  bury  some  of  the  men  who  died  in  the  dressing  station. 
Back  from  the  east  side  there  was  a  steep  hill  which  contained 
several  excellent  dugouts,  some  of  which  were  used  as  dressing 
rooms.  As  soon  as  the  wounded  were  dressed  they  were  placed 
in  these  empty  rooms  to  await  transportation  to  the  rear.  These 
rooms  were  soon  filled,  however,  and  it  became  necessary  to 
place  the  men  in  the  court  yard  on  litters  or  rubber  blankets.  The 
wind  and  rain  added  nothing  to  the  comfort  of  these  poor  chaps, 
but  there  was  no  murmur  of  complaint  from  any  of  them.  They 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  47 


were  so  exhausted  from  lack  of  sleep  and  food  and  constant  fight- 
ing, that  they  were  able  to  sleep  undisturbed  either  by  their  wounds, 
or  by  the  thunder  of  the  guns  all  around. 

Two  batteries  of  seventy-fives,  of  the  129th  Field  Artillery  took 
position  behind  our  station  here,  in  such  a  way  that  their  fire  passed 
directly  over  us.  At  each  discharge,  a  shower  of  dust  from  the 
roofs  of  the  buildings  would  descend  upon  the  wounded  and  work- 
ers alike.  We  had  some  gas  this  day,  but  there  were  more  alarms 
than  gas.  No  shells  fell  in  our  immediate  vicinity  as  the  dressing 
station  was  more  or  less  protected  by  the  hill.  Every  one  worked 
at  top  speed,  as  the  wounded  were  coming  in  so  fast  that  it  required 
the  services  of  almost  the  entire  company  to  take  care  of  them. 
Later  in  the  afternoon  a  detachment  was  sent  to  Baulney,  and 
with  the  aid  of  some  mule  ambulances,  cleared  the  regimental 
station  there  of  wounded.  Later,  motor  ambulances  began  to  arrive 
and  the  wounded  were  started  back  toward  the  triage  at  Cheppy. 
From  this  time  on  the  evacuation  was  continuous,  ambulances  from 
Ambulance  Co.  41  and  S.  S.  U.  sections  undertaking  this  work. 
Many  empty,  returning  ammunition  trucks  were  also  used.  The 
trucks  carried  the  wounded,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  old  triage  at 
Neuvilly,  which  had  been  taken  over  by  the  field  hospital  com- 
panies. Those  who  were  able  to  walk,  were  started  out  on  foot, 
as  all  available  transportation  was  required  for  recumbent  cases. 
By  morning  of  the  29th,  the  influx  of  wounded  having  lessened 
somewhat,  two  bearer  parties  went  forward,  one  under  Lt.  Speck, 
and  the  other  under  Lt.  Bates.  Mule  ambulances  accompanied 
these  parties,  the  detachments  coming  under  heavy  fire  and  some 
of  the  mules  being  killed.  One  of  the  drivers  was  mortally  wounded. 
These  parties  were  out  until  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 
The  work  of  the  bearers  was  the  most  laborious  owing  to  the  mud 
and  the  long  distances  of  the  carries. 

Information  was  received  that  the  salient  created  by  the  attack 
was  to  be  protected  by  establishing  the  first  line  in  the  area  being 
covered  by  the  bearers.  The  parties  were,  therefore,  withdrawn  to 
Charpentry.  It  was  during  this  operation  that  Pvt.  Lloyd  Richmond 
was  wounded,  while  remaining  with  wounded  at  Chaudron  Farm. 
Upon  arrival  of  the  bearers  at  Charpentry,  their  patients  were  loaded 
into  ambulances,  which,  by  this  time,  had  cleared  the  station  there, 
since  the  location  was  becoming  a  target  for  gas.  Orders  were 
received  to  move  the  station  back  to  some  more  sheltered  position 
where  the  wounded  could  be  kept  in  more  security.  Ambulance 
companies  were  now  ordered  to  Varennes.  Lt.  Siberts,  with  a  de- 
tachment of  men,  proceeded  to  Very,  joining  the  company  at  Va- 
rennes the  next  day. 

In  leaving  Charpentry,  the  men  were  forced  to  run  a  gauntlet 
of  high  explosives,  gas  and  shrapnel.  A  rain  of  shells  were  pour- 


48  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


ing  into  the  valley  in  a  desperate  attempt  to  silence  the  American 
batteries.  One  of  the  spectacular  scenes  of  the  drive  occurred  when 
a  battery  of  French  artillery  came  crashing  down  the  road,  the 
gunners  riding  the  seventy-fives  which  were  drawn  by  big  trucks. 
The  little  men  in  blue  were  leaning  forward  and  gazing  eagerly 
ahead  to  the  nearby  hill  where  they  afterwards  whirled  their  guns 
into  position  and  poured  a  murderous  fire,  point  blank,  into  the 
counter-attacking  Germans.  It  was  a  little  incident  that  gave  us  a 
slight  insight  into  the  reason  why  the  Germans  failed  to  crush 
France. 

On  arriving  at  Varennes,  volunteers  were  called  for  to  return 
to  Charpentry  to  take  care  of  the  wounded  who  might  be  expected, 
and  to  relieve  congestion  in  regimental  stations,  which  had  fallen 
back  to  that  place.  Lt.  Bates  with  15  men  and  an  equal  number 
from  Ambulance  Co.  137,  were  selected.  This  detachment  had  a 
very  exciting  and  strenuous  forty-eight  hours  of  work  at  Charpen- 
try. During  the  first  night  wounded  were  numerous  and  there  was 
much  hard  and  tiresome  work  carrying  wounded  and  loading  out 
ambulances. 

The  35th  Division  was  now  being  relieved  by  the  First  Divi- 
sion, and  we  received  orders  that  we  had  been  temporarily  attached 
to  that  division  until  their  own  Ambulance  and  Field  Hospitals 
could  get  into  action.  After  being  relieved  from  this  duty,  the 
company  assembled  at  Neuvilly,  and  left  the  next  day  for  a  rest. 


WITH  THE  KITCHEN  IN  THE  ARGONNE 
OFFENSIVE 

For  anyone  to  say  that  they  derived  any  amount  of  happiness 
from  being  in  the  Argonne,  other  than  our  complete  victory  over 
the  Boche,  would  probably  be  judged  insane.  According  to  the 
Mess  Sergeant's  version,  however,  a  certain  amount  of  joy  may  be 
had  in  not  being  threatened  with  one's  life  after  serving  the  famous 
"Corn  Willy"  to  men  who  were  working  in  the  midst  of  this  hell. 

We  moved  up  the  night  before  the  drive  and  made  our  first 
stop  the  next  morning  at  about  2:00  A.  M.  at  a  place  mentioned 
before,  behind  a  steep  bank,  where  our  supplies  were  unloaded  from 
the  trucks.  These  trucks  were  ordered  to  wait  until  later  in  the 
morning  before  moving  nearer  the  lines.  As  the  men  were  going 
in  the  drive  at  five  o'clock  that  morning  we  borrowed  a  fire,  and 
inside  of  a  small  hut,  prepared  some  soup  for  them  to  have  just 
before  leaving. 

They  left  about  on  time,  but  the  trucks  which  were  to  report 
for  our  supplies,  were  delayed,  so  it  was  rather  late  before  we 


LOOKINV,    NOKTll    INTO    BAUL.XY. 


LOOKING    WEST    TOWARD   VAVQfOIS    HILL. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          49 


started  moving.  When  we  did,  however,  we  made  fairly  good  time 
until  we  were  held  up  in  the  woods  by  trucks  that  were  stuck  in 
the  mud.  We  at  last  made  it  through,  and  catching  up  with  the 
company  that  afternoon,  unloaded  our  supplies  and  equipment  and 
established  our  first  kitchen,  right  back  of  Vacquois  Hill. 

We  managed  to  get  coffee  made  before  dark,  and  our  men 
began  to  come  in  a  few  at  a  time.  Not  all  of  them  got  there,  how- 
ever, but  nevertheless  we  were  busy  feeding  the  most  of  the  night, 
as  everyone  who  came  along  wanted  something  to  eat,  and  we 
tried  to  feed  all  who  came. 

The  next  morning,  what  men  were  there,  moved  on  to  Cheppy 
and  we  were  told  that  transportation  would  come  for  us.  We 
waited  until  that  afternoon,  and  had  just  about  concluded  that  we 
were  left,  when  two  men  came  down  the  road  leading  a  couple  of 
pack  mules.  We  were  informed  that  this  was  our  transportation. 
Accordingly,  we  loaded  all  that  was  possible  on  the  mules  and 
started  for  Cheppy.  Our  kitchen  now  consisted  mainly  of  a  G.  I. 
coffee  can,  and  such  rations  as  we,  ourselves,  could  carry. 

We  arrived  in  Cheppy  in  time  to  cook  supper  for  the  men 
and  we  continued  to  cook  as  long  as  it  was  light,  as  there  were 
scores  of  men  to  be  fed  and  we  endeavored  to  feed  all  who  came. 
The  greatest  efforts  bore  little  fruit,  however,  and  most  of  the  men 
received  nothing  hot  until  they  came  out  of  the  drive.  Our  pack 
mules  made  another  trip  that  night,  bringing  up  a  few  rations  and 
some  food  which  we  were  very  glad  to  get,  being  almost  out. 

The  next  morning  we  moved  up  past  Very,  using  an  ambulance 
for  what  few  supplies  we  had,  and  set  up  a  kitchen  alongside  a 
captured  six-inch  German  gun  which  later  proved  to  be  a  rather 
disagreeable  location,  as  Jerry  threw  over  a  few  H.  E.  trying  to  put 
it  out  of  commission.  The  artillery,  having  come  up  and  started 
a  barrage,  left  us  in  a  rather  noisy  place,  also. 

Here  the  supply  section  of  our  train  managed  to  get  a  few 
rations  up  to  us.  We  cooked  and  served  all  that  day  and  night,  but 
were  unable  to  take  care  of  all  those  wanting  to  be  fed.  It  seemed 
to  be  impossible  to  secure  enough  transportation. 

The  company  moved  on  to  Charpentry  that  afternoon  and  we 
were  again  informed  that  a  transport  wagon  would  pick  up  our 
supplies  and  kitchen  and  for  us  to  follow.  As  usual,  the  wagon 
did  not  arrive,  and  we  were  again  left  to  do  the  best  we  could. 

In  the  meantime  part  of  our  supplies  and  equipment  which 
we  left  back  at  Vacquois,  came  up  in  a  mule  drawn  ambulance, 
which  we  sent  on  to  Charpentry  that  night.  We  waited,  however,  for 
the  transportation  which  was  to  move  us  from  our  present  location 
and  as  has  already  been  mentioned,  it  never  came.  The  next  morn- 
ing we  divided  our  force,  part  going  on  to  Charpentry  and  the  rest 


50          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139 


remaining  to  cook  and  serve  the  remainder  of  our  rations  which 
was  not  hard  to  do.  All  we  had  was  a  little  coffee  and  bread. 

Our  kitchen  in  Charpentry  was  located  in  a  sort  of  a  court 
yard,  near  the  buildings  in  which  were  located  the  dressing  sta- 
tions. Here  we  located  an  iron  boiler,  that  the  Germans  had  left 
in  their  hasty  retreat,  which  helped  us  out  quite  a  lot  in  cooking. 
Things  were  going  fine  here,  in  fact,  too  good  to  last.  We  had 
plenty  of  rations  and  had  served  two  fairly  good  meals,  when  things 
began  to  happen.  Jerry  got  it  into  his  head  that  Dressing  Stations 
and  kitchens  were  not  essential  in  a  successful  drive  and  right  away 
started  trying  to  eliminate  them.  A  short  time  after  he  had  started 
trying  to  put  this  idea  into  effect,  we  received  orders  to  retire.  This 
order  probably  saved  a  little  work  for  the  burying  squad,  as  far  as 
the  kitchen  force  was  concerned,  as  about  fifteen  minutes  after  leav- 
ing, a  few  direct  hits  were  scored,  scattering  our  kitchen  and  supplies 
to  the  four  winds. 

We  now  moved  back  to  Varennes,  picking  up  as  much  of  our 
equipment  at  Very  as  we  could  and  taking  it  back  with  us.  We 
stayed  in  Varennes  for  almost  two  days,  cooking  what  we  could  in 
a  much  dilapidated  stove  that  was  in  one  of  the  dugouts.  Our  field 
range  reached  us  just  as  we  were  leaving  for  Bourelles.  We  ar- 
rived there  in  time  to  set  up  for  supper,  but  had  to  tear  it  down 
that  night  as  we  moved  back  to  Neuvilly.  Here  we  were  relieved 
and  moved  out,  and  back  to  billets  and  a  small  French  kitchen. 
Although  small,  it  seemed  to  us  all  that  anyone  could  ask  for  in 
the  kitchen  line,  after  having  put  in  a  week  of  trying  to  cook  for 
a  company  of  men  with  hardly  anything  more  than  two  flat  rocks 
and  a  coffee  can. 


CITATIONS  AND  CASUALTIES 

The  fact  that  some  of  the  men  of  Ambulance  Company  139 
were  cited,  does  not  indicate  that  they  were  more  courageous  or 
devoted  to  duty  than  those  not  so  mentioned.  The  work  of  the 
entire  company  showed  an  efficiency,  and  disregard  for  personal 
danger,  of  the  very  highest  order.  Many  acts  of  individual  hero- 
ism passed  unnoticed.  The  following  is  an  extract  from  General 
Order  No.  82,  October  14th,  Hqs.  35th  Division: 

"The  Division  Commander  takes  pleasure  in  citing  in  General 
Orders,  the  following  named  officers  and  enlisted  men  for  effec- 
tive, efficient  and  courageous  work  during  the  six  days'  battle 
from  September  26th  to  October  1st,  1918." 

Private  Glen  B.  Smith,  M.  D.  Ambulance  Co.  139,  September 
29th,  near  Chaudron  Farm.  For  remaining  under  continuous  shell 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  51 


and  machine  gun  fire  for  a  considerable  time  more  than  required 
by  his  orders,  caring  for  the  wounded  under  the  most  intense  shell 
and  machine  gun  fire. 

Sergeant  Junior  Briggs,  M.  D.,  Ambulance  Co.  139,  September 
29th,  near  Chaudron  Farm.  For  remaining  under  continuous  shell 
and  machine  gun  fire  for  a  considerable  time  more  than  required 
by  his  orders,  caring  for  the  wounded  under  the  most  intense  shell 
and  machine  gun  fire. 

Private  Lloyd  Richmond,  M.  D.,  Ambulance  Co.  139,  Septem- 
ber 29th,  near  Chaudron  Farm.  On  account  of  artillery  and  ma- 
chine gun  fire,  Private  Richmond  remained  at  his  post  and  cared 
for  the  wounded  until  he  was  himself  wounded  by  a  shell  which 
killed  two  other  wounded  men. 

Sergeant  Kenneth  W.  Pringle,  M.  D.,  Ambulance  Co.  139,  Sep- 
tember 28th  and  29th  this  non-commissioned  officer,  of  his  own 
accord  and  under  extremely  heavy  shell  fire,  found  and  evacuated 
many  wounded. 

First  Lieutenant  Richard  T.  Speck,  M.  D.,  Ambulance  Co.  139, 
September  30th,  near  Charpentry.  For  effective,  efficient  and  cour- 
ageous work  in  collecting  wounded  in  the  field  north  of  Charpentry 
with  detachment  of  mule  drawn  ambulances,  under  heavy  artillery 
and  machine  gun  fire  and  repeated  aeroplane  attacks. 

First  Lieutenant  Bret  V.  Bates,  M.  D.,  Ambulance  Co.  139, 
September  30th,  near  Charpentry.  For  efficient,  effective  and 
courageous  work  in  the  open  field  with  a  detachment  of  mule  drawn 
ambulances  under  heavy  artillery  and  machine  gun  fire. 

Sergeant  1st  Class  Charles  G.  Rowland,  M.  D.,  Ambulance  Co. 
139,  September  29th  near  Charpentry.  While  his  company  was 
on  the  march  from  Charpentry  to  Varennes,  Sergeant  Rowland 
stopped  to  attend  a  truck  driver  who  had  been  struck  by  a  shell. 
Disregarding  all  personal  danger,  he  passed  through  a  curtain  of 
artillery  fire  and  dressed  the  wounded  man.  During  the  four  days 
at  the  dressing  station,  the  work  of  Sergeant  Rowland  was  of  the 
highest  order  of  efficiency. 

The  following  men  in  the  detachment  of  Ambulance  Company 
139,  110th  Sanitary  Train,  for  courage  and  devotion  to  duty  under 
intense  fire  while  acting  as  litter  bearers  on  the  morning  of  Septem- 
ber 30th,  1918: 

Wagoner  Jacob  C.  Weaverling  Pvt.  Harry  T.  Douglass 

Pvt.  Stephen  F.  McCormick  Pvt.  Garland  Freeman 

Pvt.  Icl.  George  G.  Crowley  Pvt.  William  W.  Williams 

Pvt.  Icl.  Fay  A.  Downing  Pvt.  Louis  J.  Fisher 

Pvt.  Icl.  Joe  Barnes  Pvt.  John  R.  Fulmer 

Pvt.  John  J.  Fisher  Pvt.  Robert  A.  Still 

Pvt.  Charles  F.  Blaker  Pvt.  John  P.  Feeney 


52          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Casualties — Ambulance  Company  139,  during  the  five  days  in 
the  Argonne  with  our  own  division,  and  the  forty-eight  hours  at- 
tached to  the  First  Division,  came  out  of  battle  without  a  death. 
Private  Lloyd  Richmond,  on  the  night  of  September  29th,  while 
taking  care  of  some  wounded  men  under  intense  shell  and  machine 
gun  fire  at  Chaudron  Farm,  was  wounded  in  seven  different  places. 

The  following  named  men  were  gassed  while  attached  to  the 
First  Division  at  Charpentry: 

Lt.  George  Montieth,  Sgt.  Clarence  Falconer,  Pvt.  Edward  De- 
Talent,  Pvt.  Wilson  Meyers,  Lt.  Bret  V.  Bates,  Sgt.  Ernest  Stalcup, 
Pvt.  Kenneth  S.  Brown,  Pvt.  Jesse  Dennis,  Pvt.  Lester  A.  Brogan, 
Pvt.  Jesse  Casteel,  Pvt.  William  Peterson,  Pvt.  Rollo  C.  Dugan. 


THE  STAY  IN  VAUBECOURT 

On  coming  from  the  Argonne  offensive  on  October  5th,  the 
Sanitary  Train  moved  to  Vaubecourt,  a  city  whose  blocks  of  ruins 
told  plainer  than  words  the  story  of  its  bombardment  in  the  earlier 
days  of  the  war.  But,  complete  as  was  the  destruction  of  some 
parts  of  the  city  other  parts  escaped  harm,  and  in  this  quarter  we 
found  a  comfortable  home  in  a  large  barn,  well  equipped  with 
bunks. 

The  memory  of  our  stay  in  Vaubecourt  to  most  of  us  is  not  a 
pleasant  one.  Sick,  tired,  hungry,  dirty,  clothing  torn  and  stained 
with  mud  and  blood,  and  equipment  lost,  the  men  of  our  company 
certainly  did  not  have  the  appearance  of  spic  and  span  soldiers  of 
Uncle  Sam.  A  few  hours  of  rest,  with  good  food  and  plenty  of 
soap  and  water  did  much  to  better  conditions,  but  the  effects  of 
the  previous  days  at  the  front  were  not  at  once  thrown  off.  Sick- 
ness prevailed,  hardly  a  man  escaping  it  in  some  degree,  and  the 
number  sent  each  day  to  the  hospital  was  probably  the  largest  at 
any  time  in  the  history  of  the  company.  Here  for  the  first  time  in 
months,  we  heard  the  once  famous  sound  of  the  bugle,  the  com- 
panies standing  all  calls. 

But  in  the  midst  of  this,  there  was  one  day  of  our  Vaubecourt 
stay  that  stood  out  as  one  of  the  brightest  in  our  experience.  It 
was  the  day  the  news  arrived  that  Germany,  surrounded  by  an 
unbreakable  band  of  fire  and  steel,  and  realizing  the  inevitable, 
had  asked  for  peace  terms.  To  us  who  had  just  emerged  from 
the  horrors  of  the  Argonne,  the  news  seemed  like  the  first  streak  of 
morning  light  shining  through  the  darkness.  However,  the  constant 
rumbling  of  the  distant  artillery  and  the  steady  procession  of 
aeroplanes  overhead,  kept  us  from  becoming  too  optimistic.  Yet 
the  feeling  seemed  to  remain  that  it  was  the  beginning  of  the  end, 
and  that  peace  could  not  be  far  distant. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139          53 


The  fact  that  the  Hun  was  at  last,  not  asking,  but  begging  for 
a  cessation  of  hostilities,  in  the  name  of  her  people,  gave  us  re- 
newed spirits.  We  were  further  cheered  by  the  fact  that  the  entire 
Sanitary  Train  had  been  commended  for  its  work  in  the  Argonne 
by  our  own  Divisional  Commander,  as  well  as  by  the  Commanding 
General  of  the  division  that  relieved  us.  The  work  in  battle  had 
been  without  fault,  but  at  this  time  we  were  informed  that  discip- 
line was  very  lax,  and  instead  of  the  much  needed  rest,  we  were  put 
through  a  period  of  training  which  lasted  until  the  division  relieved 
a  division  of  French  in  a  sector  north  of  Verdun. 


THE  VERDUN  FRONT 

While  at  Vaubecourt  we  received  word  that  we  were  to  go  to 
the  front  again,  and  that  news  surprised  us  not  a  little,  because 
of  the  fact  that  we  had  only  been  out  of  the  Argonne  some  two 
weeks. 

On  October  15th,  the  division  occupied  a  new  sector  east  of 
Verdun,  extending  from  near  Fresnes  to  Eix.  As  usual,  Ambulance 
Company  139  took  position  near  the  front  lines,  to  evacuate  the 
division.  On  October  16th,  headquarters  of  the  company  was  lo- 
cated at  Fontaine  Brilliante,  a  very  beautifully  situated  triage  near 
Somme-Dieue.  This  triage  evidently  had  been  a  most  busy  place 
during  the  great  drive  on  Verdun  in  1916.  Immense  Red  Crosses 
were  painted  on  the  tops  of  the  various  buildings,  and  two  very  in- 
genious Red  Crosses  were  constructed  upon  the  hillside,  of  small 
red  and  white  stones.  These  were  placed  there  to  protect  the  triage 
from  Boche  airplanes. 

Immediately  upon  arrival  at  Fontaine  Brilliante,  Lt.  Monteith, 
with  a  detachment  of  twenty-six  men,  started  to  the  front  and  es- 
tablished a  dressing  station  at  Deramee.  Two  cooks  were  with  the 
detachment,  and  a  kitchen  was  set  up  in  the  same  building  with 
the  dressing  station.  Rations  were  drawn  from  the  first  battalion 
of  the  110th  Engineers  and  it  was  not  a  rare  thing  to  have  hot  cakes 
for  breakfast.  In  the  kitchen  was  a  wire  cage  which  could  be 
locked,  and  which  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  large  rat  trap. 
One  night  the  cooks  had  written  several  letters  to  their  wives  and 
put  them  into  this  cage  and  locked  it.  The  rats,  which  had  already 
carried  away  some  very  sizable  articles,  including  dippers,  frying 
pans  and  what-nots,  got  the  letters  out  of  the  cage  in  some  magic 
way  that  night,  and  to  this  day  those  two  cooks  are  marveling  at 
the  cleverness  of  French  rats. 

Litter  and  ambulance  posts  were  placed  at  Tunis,  Bellvue  Farm 
and  Joffre.  There  were  a  few  camps  near,  which  were  merely  bil- 
leting places  for  soldiers  in  reserve,  and  for  supply  organizations 


54          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139 


of  the  line  troops.  They  were  all  in  easy  shelling  distance  for  the 
Germans,  in  fact,  Deramee  was  so  close  to  the  lines  that  one  could 
hear  the  report  of  the  guns  an  instant  before  the  shells  would  come 
over. 

The  forts  around  Verdun  were  very  interesting.  There  were 
two  within  two  kilometres  of  Deramee,  one  named  Fort  Deramee, 
and  the  other  Fort  Roselier.  These  forts  were  situated  on  points 
commanding  a  view  of  all  the  surrounding  country.  They  were 
neatly  concealed  from  aerial  observation,  and  one  might  easily 
walk  squarely  into  one  before  he  noticed  it.  They  were  most  formid- 
ably constructed  of  reinforced  concrete,  and  were  built  deep  into 
the  ground.  Some  were  encircled  by  a  moat  over  which  were  heavy 
draw  bridges,  and  beyond  the  moat  a  mass  of  barbed  wire  entangle- 
ments encircled  the  entire  defense.  There  were  over  forty  of  these 
forts  around  Verdun,  all  garrisoned  by  the  French.  A  look  at  these 
mighty  bulwarks  told  at  once  why  the  Germans  could  not  pass. 

On  October  8th,  another  section  to  the  north,  extending  to  Vaux, 
was  taken  over  by  the  division,  and  another  dressing  station,  in 
charge  of  Lt.  Vardon  with  fifteen  men,  was  established  at  Vaux. 
At  first  dependence  was  placed  upon  four  G.  M.  C.  ambulances  of 
Ambulance  Co.  138  to  do  all  of  the  evacuating,  but  later  S.  S.  U. 
526  was  assigned  for  this  work.  All  cases  were  taken  to  Field 
Hospital  139,  at  Fontaine  Brilliante. 

Some1  mention  of  the  old  battlefield  near  Vaux  must  be  made. 
Fort  Vaux  was  taken  by  the  Germans  after  a  fierce  and  uninter- 
rupted cannonading  lasting  from  March  12th  to  April  9th,  1916. 
Fort  Avocourt  and  the  Mort-Homme  also  succumbed  to  the  terrific 
onslaught  of  the  Hun  on  April  10th.  After  five  months  of  furious 
fighting,  in  which  the  Germans  lost  over  a  half  million  men,  the 
French  retook  these  important  positions.  Just  back  from  the  dress- 
ing station  an  eighth  of  a  mile  is  a  famous  hill  of  the  Verdun 
battle.  A  look  at  this  barren  hill  filled  one  with  awe,  for  there 
isn't  a  tree,  not  even  a  stump,  standing,  and  not  a  square  foot  of 
ground  that  has  not  been  torn  by  shell  fire.  The  ground  is  simply 
pulverized.  There  are  helmets  (French  and  German),  old  rifles, 
cart  wheels,  unexploded  shells,  clothing  and  most  everything  in 
the  line  of  war  equipment  lying  around  on  the  ground,  just  as  it 
was  left  after  that  terrible  struggle.  Bones  of  every  part  of  the 
human  body  could  be  found  in  almost  any  numbers.  One  could 
pick  up  a  helmet  with  a  skull  in  it,  or  a  shoe  with  the  bones  of  a 
foot  in  it.  Standing  at  the  bottom  of  this  hill,  one  could  look  up 
at  the  head  of  the  valley  and  see  a  German  battery,  sitting  just  as 
it  had  been  deserted  after  her  defeat  in  1916.  The  wood  that  was 
brought  in  from  the  fallen  timber  was  literally  filled  with  shrapnel. 

The  Vaux  detail,  when  not  busy,  spent  most  of  its  time  seeing 
the  many  interesting  places,  even  though  at  times  it  was  a  bit 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          55 


dangerous.  From  the  hill  back  of  the  dressing  station  one  could 
see  the  Germans  shelling  Ft.  Douamont,  two  miles  away.  A  very 
strange  impression  it  left  on  one,  too.  First  the  report  of  the  Ger- 
man guns  would  be  heard,  and  in  an  instant  the  shell  would  burst 
near  the  fort,  throwing  dirt  and  rock  high  into  the  air.  Then  the 
sound  of  the  shell,  which  had  already  bursted,  could  be  heard  going 
through  the  air. 

While  there  were  not  many  casualties  through  Vaux,  over  seven 
hundred  came  through  Deramee.  The  division  had  just  been  filled 
up  with  men  who  had  not  been  in  France  over  a  month  or  so,  and 
who  had  not  trained  longer  than  that  in  the  States.  The  trenches 
of  Verdun,  which  were  always  filled  with  water  and  mud,  seemed  to 
be  too  much  for  them,  and  many  cases  of  influenza  and  pneumonia 
developed. 

We  had  many  gas  cases,  too,  at  Deramee.  In  one  day  a  hun- 
dred and  six  gas  patients  came  through  the  dressing  station.  It 
was  mostly  mustard  gas,  and  the  patients  would  come  in  by  the 
ambulance  load,  temporarily  blind  and  feeling  miserable.  We 
could  only  bathe  their  eyes  with  a  sodium  bi-carbonate  solution, 
and  use  the  sag-paste  freely.  During  this  rush  the  only  available 
ambulances  were  those  of  the  S.  S.  U.  526,  and  the  drivers  of  that 
unit  not  being  familiar  with  the  roads,  Corporals  O'Dowd  and 
Bailey  were  kept  busy  guiding  them  around.  We  worked  well  after 
midnight  on  that  particular  day  before  all  the  patients  were  evac- 
uated. The  total  number  of  gas  patients  numbered  well  over  two 
hundred. 

A  sergeant  and  three  men  were  stationed  at  Bellevue  Ferme,  a 
relay  station  between  Derame  and  Vaux.  This  station  was  situated 
on  a  hill  only  a  short  distance  from  Verdun,  and  one  could  get  a 
splendid  view  of  the  old  battered  city  from  this  place.  There  were 
eleven  big  naval  guns  down  below  Bellevue  on  a  narrow  gage  rail- 
way, and  they  surely  made  some  music  when  they  fired.  They  drew 
fire  from  the  Germans,  too,  but  no  sooner  would  the  Germans  locate 
them  than  they  were  moved  along  the  track  to  another  place. 

Verdun  was  very  close  to  the  different  stations,  and  many  of 
us  visited  the  silent  old  city.  One  had  only  to  take  one  look  at  that 
city  to  realize  that  one  of  the  mightiest  struggles  of  human  history 
took  place  for  its  possession.  Petain,  the  great  French  leader,  won 
an  immortal  place  among  military  leaders  for  the  defense  of  that 
city  in  1916,  and  a  glance  at  the  battlefield  would  convince  one 
absolutely  that  he  meant  those  words  "On  ne  passe  pas."  The 
cathedral  in  Verdun  was  badly  damaged;  fourteen  holes  in  one 
side  of  the  building  were  counted  and  the  roof  had  three  big  gaps 
in  it,  and  while  the  cathedral  can  be  repaired,  yet  its  shell  marks 
will  be  there  forever.  Another  interesting  thing  connected  with 
Verdun  is  its  underground  city,  capable  of  accommodating  forty- 


56          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


two  thousand,  and  absolutely  shell  proof.  The  Germans  shelled 
Verdun  regularly,  dropping  shells  on  certain  crossroads  and  build- 
ings at  exact  intervals.  One  couldn't  tarry  in  one  place  in  that  city, 
even  if  he  cared  to,  because  an  M.  P.  would  firmly  suggest  "move 
along." 

We  were  on  the  Verdun  front  when  Austria  capitulated,  and 
were  almost  fighting  for  newspapers  in  order  to  get  the  details. 
The  question  in  everyone's  mind  during  our  last  days  at  Verdun 
was  "How  long  will  Germany  hold  out?"  We  left  Deramee  on 
November  6th,  having  been  relieved  by  the  "Wildcats,"  a  division 
of  soldiers  not  soon  to  be  forgotten,  and  we  little  knew  that  we 
had  been  on  our  last  front. 


MOVE  TOWARD  METZ,  AND  THE  ARMISTICE 

After  a  siege  of  about  three  weeks,  our  company  was  relieved 
from  duty  in  the  sector  north  of  Verdun,  and  we  were  all  prepar- 
ing for  a  good  long  rest,  and  best  of  all,  a  thorough  delousing  at 
the  hands  of  the  official  "Cootie-cooking-brigade."  As  later  devel- 
opments will  show,  we  realized  none  of  our  anticipations,  at  least  not 
at  Erize-la-Grande. 

The  sector  which  we  had  just  left  was  famous  for  at  least  three 
of  the  war's  most  deadly  weapons,  viz. — Cooties  (most  of  them  wear- 
ing service  stripes),  prize  rats  and  German  gas.  The  combined 
efforts  of  the  three  made  life  hardly  worth  living  at  times,  and  a 
sigh  of  relief  was  breathed  when  at  last  the  task  was  at  an  end. 

The  village  of  Erize-la-Grande  compared  favorably  with  all 
other  villages  in  which  we  had  been  billeted,  especially  as  regards 
street  scenes  and  sleeping  quarters.  These  had  evidently  been  con- 
structed during  the  dark  ages,  but  whether  those  who  inhabited  them 
were  afraid  of  light  or  fond  of  darkness  remains  a  secret. 

On  the  night  of  November  7th,  the  wild  cry  arose  that  the  war 
was  over!  We  were  used  to  all  manner  of  reports,  though  none 
quite  as  stunning  as  this,  and  in  a  few  minutes  excitement  was  at 
its  height.  An  optimistic  M.  P.  was  heard  shouting,  "It's  over,  so 
help  me,  God!"  and  a  little  later  the  same  spirit  was  evidenced  by 
the  doughboys  along  the  roads,  who  were  joyfully  proclaiming  the 
end  by  shooting  up  flares  and  yelling,  "Fini  la  guerre"  By  this 
time  it  was  a  settled  fact  that  the  war  really  was  over,  that  nothing 
remained  to  be  done  but  the  shouting,  and  that  this  was  the  proper 
time  to  shout.  What  happened  during  the  next  few  hours,  gentle 
reader,  will  be  left  to  your  imagination.  It  was  a  grand  and  glo- 
rious feeling,  and  not  long  afterwards  we  found  out  that  just  about 
the  entire  A.  E.  F.  and  practically  all  the  folks  at  home  were  also 
celebrating. 


WOUNDED    FROM    THK   ARGOXNE   AT   CHEPPY. 


DRESSING    STATION   AT   CHEPP. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139          57 


The  next  morning  we  awoke  to  the  real  situation,  and  found 
that  the  cause  of  the  whole  thing  originated  from  a  certain  German 
White  Flag  party  which  was  on  its  way  to  meet  Marshal  Foch.  The 
German  high  command  had  ordered  the  cessation  of  hostilities 
along  a  certain  part  of  the  line  in  order  that  these  peace  plenipo- 
tentiaries might  reach  the  great  French  Marshal  and  learn  from 
him,  personally,  how  peace  terms  could  be  had.  Things  began  to 
move  pretty  fast  now,  and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  speculation 
as  to  what  the  Boche  would  do.  The  next  day  the  official  com- 
munique reported  that  Foch  had  very  generously  allowed  them 
seventy-two  hours  in  which  to  accept  or  reject  the  iron-clad  terms 
of  an  armistice.  Meanwhile,  the  entire  western  front  was  the  scene 
of  one  of  the  greatest  Allied  offensives  of  the  war. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  things,  orders  were  suddenly  issued 
to  move  at  once  toward  the  front,  and  Sunday  morning,  November 
10th,  found  us  packed  up  and  moving.  All  along,  the  roads  were 
lined  with  American  troops.  Mile  after  mile  of  supply  wagons,  ar- 
tillery, machine  gun  battalions  and  infantry  were  slowly  but  surely 
wending  their  way  to  Berlin.  This  looked  very  different  from 
peace.  We  learned  afterwards  that  the  35th  Division  was  to  make 
a  direct  frontal  assault  upon  Metz,  while  other  troops  were  to 
engage  in  a  flanking  movement.  As  Metz  was  the  most  strongly 
fortified  position  the  Germans  held,  it  can  readily  be  seen  that  the 
35th  would  have  had  a  pretty  stiff  job.  It  seemed  certain  that  in 
a  day  or  two  we  would  enter  the  offensive  against  this  powerful 
fort,  and  we  were  well  aware  of  what  this  movement  would  call  for. 

At  about  2:30  Sunday  afternoon  we  halted  at  a  small  village 
named  Cousances,  expecting  to  move  on  at  any  time.  Here  it  was 
reported  that  the  Kaiser  had  abdicated,  and  that  all  Germany  was 
in  a  state  of  revolution,  but  we  had  heard  this  same  thing  at  least 
a  dozen  times  before,  and  so  thought  nothing  of  it.  The  entire 
front  from  the  Channel  to  the  Vosges  was  ablaze,  with  the  Yanks 
near  Sedan,  the  capture  of  which  village  by  the  Geramns  in  1871 
marked  the  triumph  of  Bismarck.  History  was  about  to  repeat 
itself.  The  British  in  Flanders  were  rapidly  driving  the  Hun  from 
Belgium,  while  in  the  Champagne  the  French  were  making  such 
advances  as  they  had  never  made  before.  Apparently  Foch  had 
chosen  Berlin  for  the  Allied  objective. 

While  these  events  were  in  progress,  a  German  courier,  labor- 
ing under  great  difficulty,  was  carrying  messages  from  the  Allied 
Headquarters  to  the  German  General  Headquarters,  at  Spa,  in  Bel- 
gium. Only  a  few  hours  remained  for  the  Hun  to  arrange  his  an- 
swer. German  propaganda  was  at  an  end,  and  that  of  the  Allies 
consisted  of  cold  steel  from  the  heavies.  One  by  one  Germany's 
allies  had  deserted  her,  until  now  she  stood  alone  facing  the  ever 
increasing  strength  of  the  strongest  and  noblest  armies  of  the  world. 


58          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Her  armies  were  almost  demoralized.  At  home  her  people  were 
terrorized  at  the  thought  of  having  their  Fatherland  invaded,  and 
were  demanding  that  the  war  be  ended.  For  over  four  years  they 
had  waited  behind  a  curtain  of  lies  and  outrages,  only  to  see  it  lifted 
and  defeat  staring  at  them.  Such  were  a  few  of  the  conditions 
which  confronted  the  German  High  Command  at  Spa,  while  Foch, 
with  his  gallant  armies  smashing  on,  calmly  waited  for  one  of  two 
short  words — Yes  or  No. 

At  Cousances,  stowed  away  in  an  old  dismantled  factory,  we 
were  waiting  for  this  important  answer.  As  was  mentioned  before, 
we  had  expected  to  continue  our  march,  but  orders  had  evidently 
been  changed  to  wait  for  the  German  answer.  On  Monday  morn- 
ing, November  llth,  the  famous  "drum  fire"  was  plainly  audible, 
and  again  things  didn't  sound  at  all  peaceful.  Having  had  a  little 
previous  experience  around  Cheppy  and  Charpentry,  we  realized 
what  the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  the  terms  would  mean.  There 
was  no  noticeable  let-up  in  the  firing.  The  suspense  was  becoming 
acute.  Either  they  would  sign  it  or  reject  it.  In  case  the  former 
should  happen,  it  would  only  be  a  matter  of  waiting  our  turn  at 
the  gang-plank;  should  the  latter  occur,  the  Lord  only  knew  what 
would  happen.  Visions  of  a  gang-plank  and  tug-boats  changed 
into  visions  of  litters  loaded  with  wounded,  and  the  loud  cheers 
of  Yanks  bidding  farewell  to  Gallant  France  changed  into  the  shriek 
of  gas  and  high  explosive  shells. 

But  the  old  saying,  that  it  is  always  the  darkest  just  before  dawn, 
held.  Almost  before  any  of  us  realized  it  the  guns  were  quiet.  We 
listened  again,  but  not  a  sound  could  be  heard.  We  realized  that 
they  were  advancing  rapidly,  but  that  it  was  hardly  possible  for 
them  to  be  out  of  sound  this  soon.  At  this  time  the  British  troops 
were  at  Mons,  the  French  armies  were  across  the  Belgian  line  from 
the  Meuse  to  the  Oise,  and  American  armies  were  advancing  from 
Sedan  to  the  eastern  forts  of  Metz.  France  was  almost  clear  of 
the  invader.  The  liberation  of  Belgium  had  begun.  The  whole 
German  army  was  in  disorderly  retreat,  and  there  needed  only  a 
little  more  time  to  transform  that  retreat  into  the  greatest  rout 
of  all  military  history. 

We  were  convinced  of  the  signing  of  the  armsitice  only  when 
we  read  the  following  memorable  telegram,  which,  although  heard 
the  world  over,  probably  meant  more  to  each  one  of  the  Allied  sol- 
diers than  to  the  whole  world: 

"The  Armistice  is  signed  and  becomes  effective  November  llth 
at  11  o'clock.  At  this  hour,  or  before,  hostilities  and  the  advance 
must  cease.  Hold  the  lines  reached  and  notify  exactly  the  line 
reached  at  that  hour.  No  communication  with  the  enemy  will  take 
place." 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139          59 


THE  FIRST  REPLACEMENTS 

The  first  replacements  were  a  part  of  the  first  replacement 
company  consisting  of  500  officers  and  2500  men,  to  sail  overseas. 
While  at  Ranspach,  thirty-six  men  were  received  to  bring  the 
strength  up  to  122  men.  They  all  came  originally  from  Camp 
Greenleaf,  Ft.  Oglethorpe,  Georgia,  located  in  Chickamagua  Park, 
near  Lookout  Mountain  and  Missionary  Ridge.  It  was  here  that 
the  future  members  of  Ambulance  Co.  139  received  their  first  mil- 
itary training,  among  which,  too  important  to  forget,  were  the 
duties  of  kitchen  police,  guard  duty  and  company  fatigue,  the 
three  delights  of  a  soldier.  The  winter  of  '17  and  '18  will  be  re- 
membered for  a  long  time  by  many  of  the  men,  especially  because 
of  the  sticky  mud  and  bitter  cold  nights,  although  the  days  were 
usually  sunshiny  and  warm. 

Along  towards  the  last  of  May  a  few  men  were  picked  from 
each  of  the  Ambulance  and  Field  Hospital  companies  and  sent  to 
Camp  Forest,  also  in  Chackamagua  Park,  and  formerly  the  home 
of  the  old  Sixth  Infantry.  There  they  were  placed  in  a  recruit 
company  and  after  a  week  of  daily  inspections  both  physical  and 
of  equipment,  finally  received  orders  to  roll  packs  and  leave.  Every 
man,  fully  equipped,  left  camp  and  marched  to  the  town  of  Lyttle, 
to  entrain  Decoration  Day,  May  30th,  1918.  It  was  an  impressive 
scene  to  see  all  those  well  trained,  healthy  young  fellows  drawn 
up  in  company  front  awaiting  the  order  to  climb  aboard  the  five 
comfortable  Pullman  trains  and  start  for  France.  The  regimental 
band  was  also  there,  playing  popular  pieces  as  if  to  cheer  the  men 
up,  but  judging  by  the  looks  of  their  clean,  smiling  faces,  it  was 
plain  to  see  that  they  were  going  forth,  eagerly  to  do  their  bit. 

Leaving  Lyttle  on  May  30th,  three  of  the  five  sections  started 
northeast  for  New  York  and  the  other  two  sections  started  south, 
going  to  Atlanta  and  from  there  to  the  coast,  thence  north  on  the 
Seaboard  line  to  New  York.  Every  little  town  and  city  through 
which  they  passed  greeted  them  with  a  good  luck  wish  and  a  God 
speed,  and  many  a  dainty  from  a  cigarette  to  candy  found  its  way 
through  the  car  windows. 

On  Sunday  morning,  June  3rd,  they  left  the  train  at  the  ferry 
dock  in  Hoboken,  N.  J.,  and  soon  were  loaded  on  two  large  ferry 
boats  which  were  drawn  up  to  the  docks  to  transfer  the  men  down 
the  river  to  Long  Island  City.  The  trip  down  the  river  that  fine 
morning  was  enjoyed  by  everyone,  as  the  fresh  air  gave  them  new 
life  after  being  cooped  up  in  the  train  for  so  long.  Every  passing 
tug  and  ferry  boat  gave  the  men  a  shrieking  whistle  in  salute  ac- 
companied by  the  flutter  of  handkerchiefs.  They  landed  in  Long 
Island  a  little  later  and  after  a  ride  of  three  hours,  left  the  train 


60          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


at  the  outskirts  of  Camp  Mills  on  June  3rd.  Arriving  at  the  camp, 
they  were  placed  eight  men  to  a  tent  with  an  iron  bed  apiece  but 
with  no  mattresses  or  bed  sacks.  Just  the  hard  iron  springs  to 
sleep  upon.  Here  the  men  were  re-classified,  received  the  last  of 
their  overseas  equipment,  and  on  June  6th  had  their  final  overseas 
examination  which  left  them  ready  to  sail. 

At  midnight  they  rolled  their  packs,  filled  their  barrack  bags 
and  marched  slowly  and  silently  from  camp.  At  a  small  station 
near  the  camp  the  bags  were  loaded  on  box  cars  to  be  seen  no 
more  until  the  arrival  in  France.  After  another  short  trip  by  rail 
and  ferry,  the  men  were  landed  at  the  Cunard  line  dock,  No.  52,  and 
through  the  driving  rain  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  gigantic  ship 
moored  there.  They  quietly  unloaded  from  the  ferry  and  in  a  few 
minutes  were  inside  of  the  huge  sheltered  freight  dock.  Here 
groups  of  Red  Cross  girls  with  steaming  coffee  and  sandwiches 
were  awaiting  them.  After  a  delay  of  about  two  hours  they  filed 
up  the  gang-plank  and  boarded  the  Aquitania,  the  largest  ship 
afloat.  It  carried  about  eleven  thousand  officers  and  men,  to- 
gether with  several  tons  of  mail.  Its  armament  consisted  of  Brit- 
ish manned  naval  guns.  Once  on  board  the  ship,  after  giving  their 
names  and  number,  they  were  assigned  a  comfortable  bunk  and 
given  a  mess  ticket  telling  them  when  and  where  to  eat.  The  ship 
remained  at  the  dock  all  through  the  day  and  night  but  finally, 
about  eight  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  June  8th,  she  swung  slowly 
from  her  moorings,  headed  down  the  harbor,  and  about  noon  the 
men  saw  the  Statue  of  Liberty  fade  away  into  the  skyline. 

The  trip  across  the  Atlantic  was  rather  uneventful.  The  ship 
traveled  slowly  in  the  day  time,  taking  a  zig-zag  course,  turning  and 
twisting,  and  leaving  behind  a  wake  like  the  trail  of  an  angry  ser- 
pent. As  soon  as  night  fell,  however,  the  ship  would  vibrate  with 
the  pulsing  throb  of  her  mighty  engines  and  would  plunge  through 
the  water  at  full  speed,  every  light  extinguished,  for  even  the  glow 
of  a  cigarette  might  make  it  the  target  for  some  lurking  submarine. 
The  men  were  given  life  boat  drill  every  day  and  also  a  thorough 
physical  inspection,  so  there  was  no  danger  of  any  disease  breaking 
out  and  spreading  among  them  undetected.  The  day  before  sight- 
ing land,  two  long,  gray  British  Destroyers  came  plunging  through 
the  heavy  seas  to  meet  the  ship  and  escort  it  into  the  harbor.  On 
the  15th  of  June,  about  7  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  ship  dropped 
anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Liverpool,  its  voyage  at  an  end. 

Almost  immediately  the  work  of  unloading  was  commenced  and 
by  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  men  were  all  lined  up  on 
English  soil  ready  for  further  orders.  Shortly  afterwards  they 
walked  through  the  streets  of  Liverpool  to  the  railway  station,  led 
by  a  band  composed  of  English  Boy  Scouts,  playing  national  airs 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  61 


by  which  the  men  marched  along,  keeping  step  to  the  music  and 
being  enthusiastically  cheered  by  the  crowds  that  lined  the  streets. 
Arriving  at  the  station,  they  entered  day  coaches  and  were 
rapidly  hauled  across  England  to  Southampton,  reaching  there 
about  one  o'clock  the  next  morning,  June  16th.  From  the  station 
they  hiked  out  to  a  rest  camp  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city  and  were 
assigned  long,  bare  wooden  barracks  and  inside  of  a  few  minutes 
the  tired  men  were  wrapped  up  in  their  blankets  and  snoring  in 
peace  on  the  hard  floor. 

On  the  morning  of  the  17th  they  again  rolled  their  packs  and 
marched  down  to  the  docks  where  they  were  loaded  into  a  small 
side  wheeled  boat  and  by  dark  were  being  rapidly  carried  across 
the  English  Channel,  taking  the  same  zig-zag  course  as  they  did 
coming  to  England,  to  avoid  the  enemy  submarines.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  18th  the  ship  docked  at  Le  Havre,  France,  and  the  men 
were  soon  unloaded  and  ready  for  another  hike,  this  time  to  a 
second  rest  camp  situated  on  the  top  of  a  large  hill  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  city.  After  staying  three  days  in  this  so-called  rest 
camp,  where  twelve  men  slept  in  tents  that  were  made  to  accom- 
modate only  six,  they  marched  back  down  to  the  railway  station 
and  were  loaded  onto  "side  door  pullmans"  and  third  class  coaches. 
Twenty-four  hours  later  they  arrived  at  Blois  and  were  at  once 
taken  to  the  large  replacement  camp  there. 

Here  they  were  again  inspected  and  re-classified  and  placed  in 
different  casual  companies.  All  their  extra  equipment  and  barrack 
bags  were  taken  away  from  them  and  they  were  left  with  only  their 
field  equipment,  all  ready  for  active  service.  Three  days  later  the 
following  thirty-six  men,  representing  the  first  replacements  of  the 
company,  reported  to  Train  Hqs.  for  duty: 

Frank  M.  Allen  John   J.    Fisher 

Wm.  J.  Armbrustmacher  Garland  Freeman 

Allen  L.  Barris  George  G.  Crowley 

Frank  E.  Bellows  Angelo  Castaldi 

Chas.  F.  Blaker  Clarke  Ellis 

Joseph  J.  Blandford  James  R.  McDonald 

John  R.  Fulmer  John  Troode 

Michael  Harriston  Verne  F.  Crawford 

Ernest  P.  Heidel  Harry  T.  Douglas 

John  E.  Lancaster  Jesse  M.  Casteel 

Walter  Lebeck  Vaughn  James 

Stephen  McCormick  James  E.  Johnston 

Lester  A.  Brogan  August  Lottner 

Francis  P.  Cannon  Dewey  T.  Barbour 

James  W.  Coleman  Fay  A.  Downing 

John  P.   Feeney  Arthur  E.  Jones 

Abraham  H.  Feinberg  Parker  E.  Saul 


62          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139 


The  second  and  last  replacements  to  this  company  arrived  in 
three  sections.  The  first  section  sailed  from  New  York  on  the 
transport  Mongunias,  Sept.  17th,  1918,  landing  in  St.  Nazaire, 
France,  Sept.  30th.  The  second  section  left  New  York  on  the  Prin- 
cess Mantoka,  Sept.  23rd,  arriving  at  St.  Naziere  on  Oct.  6th,  having 
been  forced  far  off  their  course  by  the  equatorial  storms.  The  third 
and  last  section  started  across  on  the  ship  Walmer  Castle,  October 
20th,  and  were  unloaded  at  La  Havre,  France,  Oct.  31st. 

Upon  arriving  in  France  all  were  sent  to  the  Medical  Training 
School  near  St.  Agnon,  one  of  the  largest  replacement  camps  in 
France.  After  spending  about  three  weeks  there  in  drilling  and 
receiving  final  instruction  for  active  duty  all  were  sent  out  to 
ambulance  companies,  Field  Hospitals  and  Medical  Detachments  of 
different  line  organizations. 

The  following  men  received  orders  to  report  to  Ambulance 
Co.  139,  for  duty,  on  October  27th  and  November  20th: 

Albert  J.  Daley  Walter  F.  Hess 

Andrew  J.  Dolak  Benjamin  W.  Kline 

Dennis  Duffy  Edward  Kletecka 

Lester  E.  Eakin  Thomas  G.  Kuntz 

John  E.  Evans  Charlie   Lulow 

Howard  C.  Evert  Elmer  F.  Lutt 

Harry  W.  Fowler  Jess  W.  McKain 

Cornelius   A.   Gallagher  Clarence  T.  S.  Murphy 

Augusts   Giorgi  Grigory  Mukansky 


FURLOUGHS 

Grenoble 

The  first  men  to  receive  furloughs  in  this  company  received 
word  on  the  24th  of  October  to  be  ready  to  take  the  train  at  Ance- 
mont  at  5  A.  M.  the  next  morning.  Only  four  places  were  given 
each  company,  and  lots  were  drawn  to  see  who  would  go.  Three 
places  were  drawn  by  "buck"  Privates  Piatt,  Smith  and  Wise,  and 
Wag.  Lawrence  Putman  was  the  fourth  man.  The  balance  of  the 
day  was  spent  in  hurried  preparations  for  the  trip.  Nobody  had 
made  one  of  these  trips  before,  and  no  one  knew  what  was  required. 
Full  field  equipment  was  the  verdict  from  Headquarters  as  to 
packs. 

As  no  alarm  clocks  were  handy,  the  men  took  turns  sitting  up 
so  that  they  would  leave  on  time  in  the  morning.  Like  the  small 
boy,  they  were  all  up  and  at  the  station  long  before  time  for 
the  train.  First  guess  was  10  A.  M.  for  the  "furlough  special," 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          63 


but  it  was  7:30  P.  M.  before  it  finally  arrived.  About  a  thousand 
men  from  the  division  were  to  make  the  trip,  so  that  it  required  a 
good-sized  train.  The  Sanitary  Train  men  were  lucky  in  loading, 
as  they  drew  a  second-class  coach,  but  French  coaches,  even  second 
class,  were  never  intended  for  sleeping  purposes.  All  of  the  men 
were  loaded  with  rations,  issued  for  the  trip,  and  of  course  the 
jam  disappeared  first,  as  it  usually  does  under  like  circumstances. 

Next  morning  a  strangely  peaceful  country  and  welcome  sun- 
shine greeted  their  vision.  Hot  coffee  was  served  by  a  Red  Cross 
canteen  for  breakfast.  Lyon  was  reached  by  noon  and  a  short 
stop  was  made  there. 

The  train  arrived  at  Grenoble  at  3:30  P.  M.  on  a  beautiful 
Sunday  afternoon.  One  captain,  four  or  five  M.  P.'s  and  the  entire 
population  of  Grenoble  was  at  the  station  to  welcome  the  train. 
The  reception  royal  was  explained  by  the  captain,  who  said  "Gren- 
oble has  just  been  opened  as  a  leave  area,  and  this  is  the  first  lot  of 
Americans  to  arrive.  When  the  men  were  lined  up  outside  of  the 
station  to  be  marched  to  the  A.  P.  M.  office,  they  started  out  in  a 
column  of  fours,  but  it  wasn't  long  until  they  were  lucky  to  get 
through  the  crowd  at  all.  All  the  people  wanted  to  see  the  Amer- 
icans and  shake  hands  with  them,  and  not  a  few  wanted  to  kiss 
them.  It  was  surprising  to  hear  so  many  of  the  people  speak  good 
English.  They  explained  this,  saying  that  Grenoble  was  a  popular 
European  and  American  pleasure  resort  before  the  war.  Arriving 
at  the  office  of  the  A.  P.  M.,  passes  were  stamped  and  tickets  issued 
for  rooms  and  meals.  The  men  were  divided  among  several  nearby 
towns  and  pleasure  resorts.  The  last  four  hundred,  including  those 
of  the  Sanitary  Train,  were  left  in  Grenoble  proper. 

Grenoble  is  built  especially  for  tourists'  trade,  and  the  hotels 
are  all  large  and  well  furnished.  They  seemed  like  palaces  to  the 
men  just  from  the  barren  wastes  of  northern  France.  Real  beds 
with  white  sheets  and  soft  mattresses,  lace  curtains  at  the  win- 
dows, polished  floors,  neat  little  wash  stands,  clothing  cabinets  and 
fire  places  greeted  the  men  in  the  rooms  they  were  shown  to. 
Single  or  double  rooms  were  furnished  as  desired.  Meals  were 
served  in  the  dining  room  of  the  hotel,  and  the  men  were  informed 
that  all  they  had  to  do  for  seven  days  and  nights  was  to  enjoy 
themselves — no  reveille,  retreat  or  drill  calls  to  mar  their  pleasure. 
Breakfast  from  7:30  to  9:00  A.  M.,  dinner  at  1:00  P.  M.  and  supper 
at  6:30  P.  M.  were  served  at  long  tables,  family  style,  and  they 
were  real  meals.  Best  of  all  there  were  no  mess  kits  to  bother  with 
after  eating. 

Needless  to  say,  it  did  not  take  the  men  long  to  get  used  to 
living  like  white  men  again,  and  before  long  they  were  all  stepping 
out  to  see  the  town.  The  barber  shops,  restaurants  and  souvenir 
stores  were  soon  doing  a  rushing  business.  Most  surprising  was 


64          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139 


the  fact  that  prices  didn't  take  a  jump  the  first  day  and  keep 
rising  thereafter.  The  trades  people  even  made  reductions  for 
the  Americans.  Modern  stores  with  plate  glass  windows  and  electric 
lights  at  night  greeted  the  men,  and  it  is  gratifying  to  state  that  the 
word  "finish"  was  never  heard  in  Grenoble. 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  had  a  well  supplied  canteen,  and  every  day 
several  of  the  "Y"  girls  led  a  party  of  sightseers  to  nearby  places 
of  interest.  Every  night  some  kind  of  an  entertainment,  either 
dances,  picture  shows  or  vaudeville,  was  staged  by  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
The  French  shows  were  all  closed  on  account  of  the  influenza,  so 
the  men  had  to  furnish  their  own  entertainment. 

Grenoble  is  situated  close  to  both  the  Swiss  and  Italian  bor- 
ders, and  is  snuggled  right  up  in  the  Alps.  The  mountains  are 
snow-capped  the  year  round,  and  form  a  pretty  background  for 
the  town.  Some  of  the  mountains  were  close  enough  for  a  climb, 
and  several  parties  took  trips  to  them.  The  town  is  cut  in  two  by 
the  river  Isce  and  three  large  concrete  bridges  span  the  water, 
making  a  pretty  setting.  The  buildings  are  all  large,  of  modern 
and  substantial  construction,  and  from  the  top  of  the  nearby  moun- 
tain the  town  makes  a  beautiful  picture.  Of  the  eight  days  spent 
in  Grenoble,  seven  were  sunshiny  and  clear,  so  the  men  were  con- 
vinced that  there  actually  was  such  a  thing  as  a  "Sunny  France." 

The  mademoiselles  all  seemed  to  think  it  an  honor  to  show 
the  Americans  a  good  time,  and  the  men  were  never  lonesome  for 
feminine  company.  They  seemed  more  like  American  girls,  as  they 
spoke  a  little  English,  wore  good  clothes,  and  were  very  good 
looking.  As  the  time  for  departure  drew  nearer,  it  was  hard  for 
them  to  think  of  leaving,  but  like  everything  else  that  sad  day  rolled 
around.  Many  were  the  promises  made  to  keep  up  a  correspon- 
dence, but  how  many  of  these  promises  were  kept,  only  the  writer 
and  the  censor  know.  Almost  as  large  a  crowd  bid  them  good-bye 
as  welcomed  them. 

That  the  men  of  the  35th  division  made  a  good  impression  on 
the  people  of  Grenoble  is  evidenced  in  a  letter  from  the  mayor  of 
Gernoble,  thanking  our  General  for  the  good  conduct  of  the  men 
and  asking  that  more  men  of  the  35th  division  be  sent  there. 

Whatever  the  impression  made  by  the  boys  upon  the  people 
of  Grenoble,  it  is  certain  that  the  people  of  Grenoble  made  a  good 
impression  on  the  boys. 

LA  BOURBOULE 

The  "Permissions"  read  La  Bourboule,  and  no  sooner  were 
these  handed  to  their  proper  owners  than  sixty  well-groomed 
"Medics,"  representing  the  Sanitary  Train  were  on  their  way  to 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          65 


the  destination  specified.  After  being  jammed  into  those  queer 
French  coaches  (third  class)  with  no  thought  given  to  comfort, 
the  train  finally  picked  up  speed  and  passed  out  upon  the  main 
line.  The  clicking  of  the  rail-joints  seemed  to  call  cadence  for  the 
songs  from  1200  throats,  all  from  the  35th  division,  whose  owners 
were  happy  to  get  away  from  bugle  calls,  military  discipline  and 
slushy  streets. 

After  a  few  hours'  ride — just  a  sample  of  what  they  were  to 
get — the  train  was  sidetracked  at  Nancy  and  all  enjoyed  the  best 
bath  they  had  ever  taken,  in  what  is  said  to  be  the  largest  bath- 
house in  the  world.  Here  the  water  comes  out  of  the  ground  at  a 
temperature  of  78  degrees  F.  and  passes  direct  into  the  pool.  After 
this  "decootieization"  they  boarded  the  train  again  and  were  able 
to  sit  and  enjoy  the  scenery  for  the  rest  of  the  trip. 

The  first  day  and  night  passed  quickly,  but  then  time  began 
to  drag,  and  along  toward  evening  of  the  second  day  some  great 
geniuses  were  born  to  the  world.  These  were  the  men  who  de- 
vised the  method  by  which  nine  men  could  sleep  in  a  space  that  only 
seemed  large  enough  for  half  that  number.  Could  one  have  peeped 
into  the  passing  coaches  it  would  have  struck  him  as  exceedingly 
humorous — some  were  stowed  away  in  the  hat-racks  over  head, 
while  others,  with  no  room  to  lie  down,  were  trying  to  sleep  in  a 
sitting  posture.  So  time  passed  for  three  days  and  two  nights. 

To  step  from  the  train  and  see  no  town  of  any  size  was  the 
thing  that  befell  these  men,  and  exclamations  of  dissatisfaction  and 
disgust  were  heard  everywhere.  Being  encouraged  by  a  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
man  standing  nearby  that  twenty-four  hours  in  the  town  would 
change  their  opinion,  they  were  content  to  be  assigned  to  their  va- 
rious hotels. 

The  village,  or  town,  of  La  Bourboule  is  located  in  the  Au- 
vergne  mountains,  in  the  range  Puy-de-Dome,  and  had  been  a  very 
popular  summer  resort  for  the  French  people  up  to  the  time  the 
U.  S.  government  took  it  over  as  one  of  the  leave  areas  for  Amer- 
ican troops.  The  altitude  of  this  locality  varies,  for  the  valleys 
are  about  2800  feet,  while  some  peaks  are  4500  feet  above  the  sea 
level.  But  as  a  leave  sector  it  was  a  disappointment  to  everyone. 
There  were  no  recreations  at  all  except  those  furnishd  by  the  Y. 
M.  C.  A.  and  that  place  was  carried  by  storm  from  morning  to 
night.  A  Y.  M.  C.  A.  man  spoke  of  the  trouble  and  placed  the 
blame  to  the  fact  that  the  town  had  accommodations  for  1200  men, 
but  there  were  twice  that  number  there  of  the  35th  and  the  26th 
divisions.  One  can  easily  judge  why  these  fellows  thought  they 
were  "in  the  wrong  pew."  To  see  an  evening's  performance  of 
vaudeville  or  motion  pictures  at  the  theatre,  it  was  necessary  to  take 
a  magazine  and  lunch,  make  yourself  at  home  for  at  least  two  hours 
and  stick  it  out  in  said  selected  seat. 


66          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


All  had  the  idea  that  their  days  of  standing  in  line  for  every- 
thing were  "fini,"  for  seven  days'  leave,  but  it  was  not  to  be;  they 
lined  up  to  purchase  canteen  checks  and  "fell  in"  behind,  sometimes, 
one  hundred  others  to  buy  at  the  wet  or  dry  canteen.  At  the  for- 
mer could  be  purchased  soft  drinks,  sandwiches  and  cakes,  while  at 
the  latter  was  an  abundant  supply  of  tobaccos  and  soldiers'  needs. 

One  Y.  M.  C.  A.  man  made  a  practice  of  taking  all  interested 
soldiers  to  see  the  many  sights  that  the  town  boasted  of,  that  is, 
to  those  that  were  within  hiking  distance.  The  most  important  were 
the  Roman  Baths,  which  are  located  at  a  distance  of  about  six 
kilometres  from  La  Bourboule.  These  baths  were  first  built  by 
the  soldiers  of  Caesar  about  the  year  400  A.  D.  Afterwards  the 
springs  were  found  to  be  beneficial  to  people  suffering  from  rheu- 
matics and  bronchial  troubles.  There  are  eleven  springs,  all  of  a 
temperature  averaging  from  98  to  100  degrees  except  one  cold 
spring,  and  all  tasting  of  mineral  properties  very  strongly.  All 
of  these  springs  are  said  to  be  radio-active,  and  each  is  famous  as 
a  "cure"  for  some  particular  ailment.  The  most  popular  is  the 
"Singer's  Spring,"  so-called  because  most  of  the  leading  vocalists 
in  the  country  took  treatment  there  by  gargling  the  water  from  this 
spring.  The  original  building  was  sacked  and  pillaged  by  the 
Gauls  and  afterwards  rebuilt  as  nearly  along  former  lines  as 
knowledge  would  permit.  Throughout  the  building  are  scattered 
pieces  of  the  former  structure;  statues,  arches  and  pillars  of  the 
old  Doric,  lonis  and  Corinthian  designs,  which  were  unearthed  and 
placed  on  display  in  the  many  rooms.  Among  these  is  a  piece  of 
masonry  representing  the  she-wolf  that  suckled  Romulus  and  Remus, 
as  the  legend  goes,  when  they  were  lost  in  the  woods  prior  to  the 
founding  of  Rome.  It  is  not  known,  however,  whether  this  is  the 
original  that  the  Romans  prized  so  highly,  or  a  reproduction. 

Another  thing  worth  visiting  at  La  Bourboule  is  the  subter- 
ranean city,  which  was  supposed  to  have  been  submerged  by  an 
earthquake  in  early  times.  A  few  of  the  buildings  were  unearthed  a 
few  years  ago,  but  the  task  was  never  completed.  All  around  that 
vicinity  the  ground  has  a  hollow  sound  under  foot,  and  makes 
walking  seem  a  little  dangerous. 

On  a  large  plateau,  4500  feet  above  the  town  proper,  is  said 
to  have  been  the  camping  ground  for  Caesar's  large  army  at  the 
time  he  attempted  to  stop  the  advance  of  the  Gauls  from  the  north. 
The  French  say  he  was  unsuccessful,  and  was  forced  to  retire  to 
the  valley  below.  Mont  D'Sancy,  one  of  the  highest  peaks  in 
France,  is  near  this  area,  but  few  have  ever  cared  to  climb  to  its 
summit. 

After  enduring  French  menu,  which  could  have  been  much 
improved,  for  nine  days,  the  men  were  not  sorry  to  receive  orders 
to  return  to  their  units.  Prices  ranged  but  one  way — high  and 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          67 


higher.  One  soldier  remarked  that  every  time  a  certain  bell  rang, 
prices  in  the  town  jumped  a  franc.  The  bell  struck  every  quarter- 
hour.  But  conditions  returning  by  rail  were  even  worse  than  the 
trip  down,  for  this  time,  instead  of  nine  to  a  compartment,  there 
were  twelve  crabby,  disagreeable  "soldats"  returning  from  their 
bi-yearly  "Permission"  in  the  heart  of  France. 

THE  FURLOUGHS  AT  AIX-LES-BAINES 

Three  groups  of  men  of  Ambulance  Co.  139  were  fortunate 
in  having  their  permissions  read  "Aix-les-Bains,"  furloughs  which 
will  never  be  forgotten  by  the  men  who  went  there. 

Aix-les-Bains  is  a  famous  watering  place  in  a  picturesque  valley 
along  the  French  Alps,  not  far  from  the  Italian  border.  It  is  sit- 
uated at  the  foot  of  Mt.  Revard,  and  within  fifteen  minutes'  walk 
of  Lake  Bourget,  the  largest  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  lakes 
in  France.  Next  to  Monte  Carlo,  it  was  once  the  most  renowned 
gambling  center  in  the  world. 

Everything  possible  was  done  to  make  our  vacation  a  happy 
one.  The  men  were  quartered  in  the  very  best  hotels,  getting  the 
best  of  service  and  everything  to  be  desired  in  the  line  of  eats. 
There  was  mountain  climbing,  entertainments  of  all  kinds  provided 
by  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  and,  best  of  all,  companionship  with  real,  live 
American  "Y"  girls. 

"Grand  Cercle,"  the  celebrated  gambling  casino  of  Aix-le-Bains, 
is  now  the  most  beautiful  Y.  M.  C.  A.  hut  in  France.  It  is  a 
large,  imposing  and  luxuriously  appointed  building,  costing  several 
million  francs.  Its  various  saloons  are  ornamented  with  magnificent 
mosaics  by  Salviati,  of  Venice.  Just  beyond  the  vestibule  is  the 
"Gallery  de  Glaces,"  from  which  most  of  the  rooms  of  the  casino 
can  be  entered.  To  the  right  is  the  beautiful  writing  and  reading 
room,  the  library,  and  the  theatre,  which  seats  over  a  thousand 
persons.  There  is  also  the  "Salle  de  Bacchus"  and  the  "Royal  Bar." 
The  bar  is  still  doing  a  thriving  business,  but  in  place  of  the  former 
bar  maid  are  the  attractive  American  girls,  serving  hot  chocolate 
and  coffee.  At  the  "Salle  de  Bacchus"  one  could  buy  all  he 
wanted  to  eat  at  extremely  low  prices.  To  the  left  again  are  the 
rooms  formerly  used  for  gambling  purposes.  The  largest  is  used 
for  lectures  and  informal  social  times,  and  the  smaller,  where  the 
larger  stakes  were  played  for,  is  the  center  for  the  religious  work 
program. 

The  men  were  privileged  to  take  trips  to  the  summit  of  Mt. 
Revard,  five  thousand  feet  above  the  sea  level,  by  means  of  a  little 
cog  railroad.  From  there  they  could  see  the  Jura  Mountains,  the 
Alps,  and  the  snow-covered  top  of  Mt.  Blanc,  the  highest  peak  in 


68  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Europe.  When  the  last  furlough  men  were  at  Aix-les-Bains,  early 
in  February,  "skiing"  was  in  vogue  on  Mt.  Revard,  and  many  were 
the  tumbles  taken  in  the  attempt  to  learn  that  fine  winter  sport. 

Another  interesting  trip  was  the  hike  to  Mt.  Chambotte,  twelve 
kilos  away,  where  the  men  could  also  enjoy  skiing  and  tobogganing. 
Then  there  was  the  bike  trip  to  the  "Gorges"  where  they  saw  deep 
gashes  worn  in  the  face  of  the  earth  by  the  unceasing  mountain 
streams.  Twice  a  week  there  were  trips  by  steamboat  to  Hautecomb 
Abbey,  on  which  they  could  get  a  wonderful  view  of  the  lake  and 
the  mountains.  There,  in  the  historical  old  Abbey,  are  quite  a 
number  of  beautiful  oil  paintings  and  statues,  taken  care  of  by 
three  old  Monks.  On  all  of  these  trips  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  furnished 
a  competent  guide,  who  explained  the  interesting  points. 

At  the  "Y"  casino,  there  was  some  form  of  entertainment  at 
almost  every  hour  of  the  day.  If  there  wasn't  a  vaudeville  per- 
formance in  the  theatre,  there  was  either  a  moving  picture  show 
in  the  Cinema  Hall  or  a  band  concert  in  the  ball-room,  and  some- 
times all  three  were  in  process  at  the  same  time.  Each  Thursday 
night  was  "stunt  night,"  when  different  stunts  and  dances  were  put 
on  in  the  theatre  by  the  soldiers  on  leave,  assisted  by  the  "Y"  girls. 

Such  entertainment  as  this  gave  the  men  a  new  lease  on  life. 
All  of  the  men  going  to  Aix-le-Bains  returned  saying  that  they  had 
one  of  the  best  times  of  their  lives,  and  regretted  that  they  could 
not  have  stayed  longer,  as  it  was  more  like  home  than  any  place 
they  had  been  in  France. 


TRIP  TO  MARSEILLES 

While  at  Fontaine  Brilliante,  on  the  Verdun  front,  orders  were 
received  for  a  detail  to  proceed  to  Marseilles  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  the  ambulances  we  had  been  longing  for  since  our  arrival 
in  France.  Aside  from  eight  G.  M.  C.  cars  of  Ambulance  Co.  138, 
and  four  broken  down  Fords,  the  110th  Sanitary  Train  had  had 
no  ambulances  since  leaving  Doniphan.  We  had  long  since  given 
up  the  idea  of  ever  having  a  transportation  section  again,  in  fact 
someone  had  even  gone  the  length  of  voicing  the  following  lament: 

"They  sent  us  down  to  Doniphan  to  get  an  ambulance 

To  go  abroad  and  let  'er  go  and  drive  for  sunny  France, 

And  then  it  took  us  seven  months  to  get  a  pair  of  pants. 

Oh,  there's  something  rotten  somewhere  in  this  blooming  ambulance. 

Of  course  to  drive  an  ambulance  you've  got  to  learn  to  drill, 

So  every  morning,  afternoon,  they  put  us  through  the  mill. 

And  when  this  war  is  over  you  will  find  us  at  it  still; 

For  we  never  saw  an  ambulance,  and  never,  never  will." 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139  69 


The  wagoners  and  ambulance  orderlies  were  hastily  recalled 
from  their  work  as  litter  bearers  in  the  advanced  posts,  and  on 
October  26th,  Lt.  Speck  started  for  Marseilles  for  twenty-nine  G. 
M.  C.  ambulances,  with  a  detail  of  thirty-two  men  from  Ambulance 
Co.  139,  sixteen  from  Ambulance  Co.  138,  and  twelve  from  Ambu- 
lance Co.  137.  There  was  a  mad  scramble  to  get  on  this  detail, 
which  meant  a  trip  across  France,  away  from  the  monotony  of  the 
trenches. 

We  arrived  at  the  railroad  about  an  hour  early,  but  in  the 
course  of  time  the  train  arrived  and  then  started  the  scramble  for 
the  best  compartments  that  the  train  afforded.  Most  of  us  found 
second-class  compartments,  which,  after  more  cushions  had  been 
obtained,  were  very  comfortable,  although  a  little  breezy.  Of 
course  no  lights  could  be  shown,  but  they  were  much  better  than 
the  customary  box  cars.  Seven-thirty  A.  M.,  October  27th,  found 
us  at  St.  Dizier.  We  were  escorted  to  Camp  Tambourine  by  an 
M.  P.,  where  we  spent  the  morning  partaking  of  our  rations.  At 
about  noon  the  M.  P.  returned,  notifying  us  that  the  train  was 
ready,  so  we  were  checked  out  of  the  camp,  marched  to  the  train 
and  packed  into  box  cars  (40  hommes  or  8  chevaux).  They  were 
better  than  some  we  had  drawn  formerly,  as  there  was  straw  on 
the  floor. 

The  train  traveled  along  a  beautiful  tree-lined  canal  for  a 
long  distance.  Barges  on  the  canal  were  for  the  most  part  drawn 
by  horses,  but  occasionally  we  would  see  very  small  burros  pulling 
them.  Each  barge  appeared  to  be  a  home,  for  family  washings 
were  hanging  out  on  a  great  many  of  them. 

We  arrived  at  Dijon  about  1  A.  M.  October  28th,  and  marched 
across  the  city  wheeling  rations  on  two-wheeled  baggage  trucks 
which  were  "borrowed"  at  the  railroad  station.  We  stayed  the 
balance  of  the  night  at  a  French  Permissionares  Barrack,  and  spent 
the  following  day  looking  around  the  numerous  parks  and  squares. 
While  in  the  Permissionares  barracks,  one  of  our  boys  inquired  of 
another,  "Who  are  those  'birds'  in  French  uniforms  wearing  those 
four-cornered  caps?"  Before  the  question  could  be  answered,  the 
French-uniformed  person  replied,  in  English,  "We  are  of  the  Polish 
Legion.  My  home  is  in  Chicago." 

That  evening  we  entrained  again,  and  after  an  uneventful  ride, 
arrived  at  Lyons  at  7  A.  M.  the  next  morning.  After  a  wait  at  the 
station  of  about  two  hours,  we  marched  to  some  barracks  which 
were  surrounded  by  a  high  board  fence.  The  city  being  quaran- 
tined on  account  of  the  influenza,  we  were  not  allowed  outside  of 
the  enclosure  except  to  go  to  the  wash-house,  about  a  hundred  yards 
distant.  Between  the  gate  of  the  enclosure  and  the  wash-house  was 
a  "boozerie,"  consequently  there  were  a  great  many  men  who  wanted 
to  wash. 


70          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Just  before  leaving  Lyons  that  evening,  a  doughboy  "pro- 
moted" a  large  crate  of  grapes  from  a  shipment  on  the  station  plat- 
form. At  daylight  the  following  morning  we  were  traveling  through 
a  rather  sandy  country,  with  vineyards  on  both  sides  of  the  track. 
Then  for  a  long  distance  there  were  Larch  trees  planted  along  the 
track,  so  close  together  that  it  was  impossible  to  see  beyond  them. 
Later  in  the  day  we  traveled  along  the  shore  of  Etyde  Berre  Sea, 
with  its  many  rice  plantations,  and  multitude  of  wild  ducks,  then 
through  a  tunnel  about  two  kilos  long,  through  large  groves  of  fig 
trees,  finally  arriving  at  Marseilles  about  noon. 

Our  packs  were  hauled  in  trucks  to  the  Motor  Reception  Park 
while  the  men  marched,  giving  us  an  opportunity  to  see  the  many 
fruit  peddlers,  the  numerous  fountains  and  squares,  and  the  dirty, 
narrow  streets  of  the  city.  Upon  our  arrival  at  the  Motor  Reception 
Park  we  were  assigned  to  billets  in  French  buildings.  We  spent 
the  afternoon  cleaning  up,  eating  fruit  purchased  from  peddlers, 
and  selling  all  kinds  of  little  trinkets  to  the  S.  0.  S.  men  as  German 
souvenirs,  and  explaining  to  them  who  "won  the  war."  In  the 
evening  we  were  given  passes  into  Marseilles,  good  until  mid-night. 
Some  went  to  the  theatre  staging  a  burlesque  show,  which  was  very 
similar  to  an  American  show.  Others  went  around  the  town,  to  the 
water  front,  and  sampled  all  of  the  fruits  available,  none  of  which 
are  as  good  as  the  fruits  which  can  be  procured  in  American  cities. 
However,  we  found  Marseilles  a  cosmopolitan  city,  both  in  regard 
to  civilians  and  soldiers.  The  main  streets  were  very  much  like  the 
streets  of  an  American  city. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  October  31st  we  were  marched  to 
the  ambulances,  and  busied  ourselves  looking  over  the  machines 
preparing  for  the  start.  During  the  evening  we  looked  around  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  Motor  Park  and  sampled  the  vintage  of 
southern  France. 

At  8:00  a.  m.,  on  November  1st,  the  convoy  of  29  ambulances 
left  the  park  in  a  gentle  shower,  but  before  traveling  very  far  it 
became  a  regular  cloudburst,  with  a  strong  wind.  The  first  day's 
drive  was  over  very  good  roads,  in  a  narrow  valley,  with  high,  rocky 
hills  and  peaks  in  the  distance  and  an  occasional  village  at  the 
foot  of  the  hills.  We  stopped  the  first  night  just  outside  of  St. 
Aminol,  a  very  small  village,  and  being  the  first  American  soldiers 
who  had  stopped  near  there,  we  were  enthusiastically  received  by 
the  madamoiselles,  and  invited  to  visit  the  town. 

During  the  next  day  we  passed  through  Avignon,  where  we  were 
given  flowers  by  French  children.  We  crossed  several  suspension 
bridges  over  streams  flowing  into  the  Rhone  River,  and  drove  for 
miles  through  vineyards,  with  their  beautiful  red  and  yellow  leaves. 
We  saw  many  wine  presses,  most  of  which  were  operated  by  women, 
in  fact  a  greater  part  of  the  manual  labor  was  done  by  the  women. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          71 


We  stopped  for  the  night  near  Valence,  a  city  of  many  narrow 
crooked  streets,  beautiful  squares  and  fountains.  We  saw  there 
many  patterns  of  Val  lace. 

Leaving  Valence  at  7  a.  m.  November  3rd,  we  passed  through 
St.  Symphone  on  a  market  day.  The  farm  products  and  animals 
were  lined  up  along  the  street;  vegetables  piled  on  the  sidewalk, 
while  the  pigs,  geese  and  calves  were  in  excelsior-lined  crates  and 
baskets.  We  arrived  at  Lyons  in  the  afternoon  and  drove  down  one 
of  the  main  streets — and  it  was  agreed  by  all  that  they  had  never 
seen  so  many  beautiful  ladies  in  a  similar  length  of  time,  not  even 
in  America.  We  stopped  for  the  night  at  a  French  Barracks,  an- 
other prison,  the  city  still  being  under  quarantine.  Lyons  is  built 
at  the  junction  of  the  Rhone  and  Prome  rivers,  the  different  parts 
of  the  city  being  connected  by  many  bridges,  one  the  Pont  du  Presi- 
dent Wilson,  which  was  dedicated  July  14th,  1918. 

It  was  raining  when  we  left  Lyons  the  next  morning,  and  the 
roads  were  very  rough.  As  it  was  necessary  to  have  the  curtains 
of  the  ambulances  up  all  day,  we  could  see  very  little  of  the  country 
until  we  got  to  Dijon,  where  we  stopped  for  the  night.  From  Dijon, 
we  traveled  over  fairly  good  roads  through  a  rolling  country  similar 
to  Kansas,  stopping  on  the  night  of  November  5th  at  Chaumont,  at 
which  place  is  located  Headquarters,  A.  E.  F. 

We  left  Chaumont  at  7:30  a.  m.  on  November  6th,  passing 
through  Langres  with  its  fort.  By  afternoon  we  had  arrived  back 
to  the  part  of  the  country  which  was  strewn  with  barbed  wire  en- 
tanglements, trenches  and  other  preparations  for  combat,  and  late 
in  the  evening  arrived  at  Fontaine  Brilliante. 

Had  we  never  seen  any  of  France  but  the  northern  devastated 
part,  we  would  have  always  wondered  why  the  French  fought  so 
hard,  but  now  we  can  easily  see  the  reason. 

A  CASUAL  IN  THE  S.  O.  S. 

Upon  the  conclusion  of  the  139th  Amb.  Co.'s  part  in  the  Ar- 
gonne  drive,  the  company  was  assembled  at  Neuvilly.  Here,  orders 
were  given  for  all  men  who  needed  medical  attention  to  report  for 
examination,  and  the  Casual,  after  living  on  corn  beef  and  hard 
tack  once  a  day,  no  sleep  to  speak  of,  and  some  experience  with  gas, 
concluded  that  he  needed  an  overhauling.  Accordingly  he  went  be- 
fore the  M.  D.,  was  sentenced  to  the  field  hospital,  and  there  being 
no  field  hospital  in  action,  was  sent  to  Evacuation  No.  9  at  Vaube- 
court. 

The  journey  was  made  by  ambulance  and,  upon  his  arrival  he 
was  taken  to  the  receiving  ward.  Here  he  was  given  a  hot  cup  of 
cocoa  by  the  Red  Cross  girls,  and  a  new  diagnosis  tag  in  exchange 


72  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


for  the  one  he  was  wearing.  His  helmet  and  gas  mask  were  dis- 
carded since  they  could  not  be  of  much  benefit,  and  he  was  assigned 
a  bed  in  Ward  No.  40. 

Here  he  lay  for  two  days,  waiting  for  his  turn  to  go  to  the 
Base.  The  bed  felt  good  to  his  weary  bones  after  months  of  no  bed 
at  all  to  speak  of.  He  let  his  mind  wander  to  various  subjects  that 
he  had  been  wanting  to  think  of  for  two  weeks,  but  could  not  for 
fear  of  that  soul  disturbing  cry  "gas!"  He  wondered  why  that  shell 
that  had  distributed  a  mule  all  over  the  landscape,  had  not  dis- 
tributed him  instead,  in  the  same  manner,  and  thanked  the  Lord  that 
he  was  evidently  considered  of  more  value  than  the  mule.  The 
third  day  found  him  on  a  French  hospital  train,  where  he  lived  on 
French  rations  (including  Vin  Blanc)  for  two  days  and  one  night. 
The  evening  of  the  second  day  found  him  at  Neuves.  The  trip 
was  featured  by  the  unsuccessful  effort  of  the  M.  P's.  to  protect 
the  fine  French  vineyards  from  being  ravaged  by  such  of  the  in- 
valids as  were  not  too  sick  to  walk  around.  After  all,  it  was  a  long 
time  since  they  had  eaten  grapes,  for  one  does  not  pick  grapes  on 
the  front  line  ai.d  one  used  to  living  in  that  atmosphere  is  troubled 
by  more  serious  thoughts  than  property  rights.  When  he  got  to 
Neuves  he  was  to  be  put  through  another  receiving  ward  where  the 
serious  cases  were  marked  with  a  red  tag,  which  means  immediate 
attention.  Not  being  so  badly  off,  the  Casual  was  relieved  of  what 
clothes  he  still  possessed  and  everything  else  except  personal 
articles.  Next,  came  a  bath  and  a  suit  of  pajamas  and  then,  bed. 

When  he  had  gotten  off  the  train  those  gallant  heroes,  the 
pirates  of  the  S.  0.  S.  had  immediately  fallen  on  him  tooth  and  nail, 
hammer  and  tongs  for  anything  in  the  line  of  souvenirs  that  he  was 
likely  to  have  on  his  person.  Having  risked  a  great  deal  of  his 
future  in  obtaining  these  little  remembrances  of  the  Hun,  he  was 
quite  naturally  not  very  much  excited  over  the  idea  of  getting  rid 
of  them,  and  especially  to  people  only  by  risking  their  reputation  in 
trying  to  part  a  war-worn  Sammie  from  his  only  reminders  of  the 
fight.  So  he  stood  his  ground  until  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
lieutenants  of  the  receiving  ward  from  whom  there  is  no  escape. 
Here  he  was  separated  from  all  his  treasures  with  no  regard  what- 
soever, for  even  common  decency.  He  only  hopes  he  will  meet  and 
recognize  them  on  the  other  shore,  especially  if  he  could  come 
upon  them  relating  the  story  of  their  capture. 

After  the  Casual  was  safely  in  bed,  the  ward  master  made  a 
record  of  the  principal  parts  of  his  past  life,  which  is  called 
a  "Clinical  Record."  Next,  a  physical  examination  by  the 
M.  D.  in  charge  who  prescribed  the  treatment.  The  man  in  the  next 
car  was  suffering  from  a  fractured  leg  and  in  much  pain,  but  he 
remarked  to  the  Casual  that  he  was  glad  that  he  seemed  to  be  getting 


LEFT    TO    RIGHT:      LT.    GEO.    MONTEITH,    CAPT.    PAUL    R.    SIBERTS,    CAPT.    RICHARD    T. 
SPECK,    CAPT.    BRET   V.    BATES,    LT.    COLIN   C.    VARDON. 


WEST    TOWARD    P.ArLNEY. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139          73 


reasonable  treatment,  for  some  places  he  would  have  been  given 
two  0.  D.  pills  and  told  to  report  for  duty. 

The  Casual  was  put  in  Class  C  and  had  an  in  and  out  life  of  it. 
The  food  was  good  but  very  little  of  it,  at  least,  to  a  man  with 
an  appetite.  Occasionally  there  was  a  battle  royal  when  enough 
parties  had  saved  up  sufficient  prune  seeds  to  make  an  effective 
barrage,  but  when  there  were  no  prune  seeds,  the  time  passed  very 
slowly.  The  Casual  went  from  Class  C  to  Class  B  in  two  weeks, 
and  three  weeks  more  of  it  found  him  ready  to  depart  for  a  Replace- 
ment Camp.  When  this  time  came,  he  was  issued  a  new  outfit  and 
put  in  a  bunch  of  40  men  who  were  under  the  tender  care  of  a 
sergeant.  That  worthy  one  drew  the  rations  and  marched  the  detail 
to  the  train.  Side  door  Pullmans,  this  time.  Quite  different  from 
first  class.  Here  the  motto  "Cheveaux  8,  Hommes  40"  was  faithfully 
lived  up  to,  but  the  Casual  thought  the  40  hommes  was  a  great  deal 
over  estimated.  The  seating  proved  uncomfortable,  so  with  much 
labor,  seats  were  built  around  the  sides  and  through  the  center  from 
stones  and  lumber,  policed  from  an  American  yard.  Immediately 
after  the  job  was  done,  an  officer  entered  and  informed  the  ser- 
geant that  all  the  material  policed  should  be  considered  under  the 
order  of  "As  You  Were."  But  he  did  not  wait  to  see  if  his  orders 
were  carried  out,  and  the  works  were  camouflaged  with  blankets. 
However,  the  suspense  proved  too  great,  and  the  stuff  was  returned 
for  fear  of  the  consequences.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  car  was 
never  inspected. 

The  train  started,  snail  fashion,  after  the  manner  of  French 
trains  and  at  one  of  the  stops,  a  vin  barrel  was  tapped,  to  the  benefit 
of  all  concerned  in  the  tapping.  The  destination  proved  to  be  Toul, 
where  the  Casual  was  put  in  a  company  and  given  the  rest  of  his 
equipment  and  was  on  his  way  back  to  his  company  the  next  day. 

An  hour  and  a  half  later,  he  pulled  in  after  an  eight  kilo  hike, 
glad  to  be  home  and  ready  to  eat  some  of  the  good  old  steaks.  No 
more  casual  life  for  him. 


PERSHING  REVIEWS  THE  35th  DIVISION 

No  day  could  have  been  more  typical  of  France  than  the  day 
of  the  Divisional  Review,  Monday,  February  17th,  1919.  There  was 
a  steady  fall  of  rain,  and  the  low-scudding  clouds  threw  a  dampened 
aspect  upon  the  scene. 

The  Sanitary  Train,  led  by  Maj.  Oliver  C.  Gebhart,  left  Aulnois 
at  10:00  a.  m.  The  distance  of  ten  kilometers  to  the  reviewing  field 
between  the  villages  of  Vignot  and  Boncourt  was  made  under  every 


74         HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


disadvantage  of  muddy  roads  and  the  heavy  pour  of  rain.  The 
field  itself,  located  on  a  broad  stretch  of  the  Meuse  basin,  was  mush- 
like  with  mire  and  patched  with  pools  of  water. 

General  Pershing,  with  the  Prince  of  Wales,  rode  onto  the  field 
at  1:30  o'clock,  while  the  entire  division  stood  at  attention.  The 
salute  to  the  Commander-in-Chief  was  played  by  a  detachment  of 
picked  buglers,  and  as  the  General  and  his  party  rode  around  the 
entire  division  from  right  to  left,  the  band,  stationed  on  the  right, 
rendered  "God  Save  the  King,"  in  honor  of  England's  young  prince. 

The  columns  of  the  Division  were  drawn  up  into  platoon  fronts, 
the  Sanitary  Train  being  stationed  between  the  Artillery,  on  the  left, 
and  the  Machine  Gun,  Signal  Corps  and  Infantry  Regiments  on  the 
right.  After  riding  around  the  Division,  General  Pershing  and  his 
party  personally  inspected  each  platoon,  winding  back  and  forth, 
asking  questions  of  the  company  commanders  and  speaking  with 
the  men. 

Having  completed  the  personal  inspection,  the  General  and  his 
party  took  position  in  the  reviewing  stand  on  the  right.  At  the  com- 
mand "Pass  in  Review"  by  the  Division  Commander,  each  battalion 
executed  successively  "Squads  Right,"  and  swept  down  the  field  in 
a  line  of  platoons.  It  was  indeed  a  most  impressive  sight,  and, 
although  the  sky  was  cast  heavy  with  low-hanging  clouds,  the  sun, 
as  if  to  lend  color  to  an  already  beautiful  picture,  broke  through 
and  shone  for  a  few  moments.  Then,  as  each  column  swung  out 
upon  its  own  way  home,  the  rain  began  again.  As  the  last  regiment 
passed  in  review,  the  Division  was  halted  while  the  General  and 
Prince  spoke  a  few  words  of  praise  for  the  splendid  showing  of  the 
Division,  and  of  its  work  in  battle. 

Although  participation  in  this  great  event  required  that  the 
men  wear  full  packs  for  almost  nine  hours  without  removing  them, 
and  undergo  a  hike  of  twenty  kilos  in  the  rain,  not  a  man  regretted 
the  experience.  It  will  be  long  remembered  with  pride  by  those  who 
took  part. 


FROM  COUSANCES  TO  AULNOIS 


The  signing  of  the  Armistice  on  November  llth,  left  the  com- 
pany at  Cousances,  occupying  an  old,  dismantled  factory.  It  was 
a  most  unsatisfactory  place  and  there  were  practically  no  accom- 
modations of  any  kind.  Winter  was  upon  us.  The  open  barn  lofts 
were  too  breezy  for  comfort,  and  there  existed  a  little  feeling  of 
uneasiness,  as  days  passed  by  and  still  we  did  not  move. 

After  a  couple  of  weeks,  however,  we  packed  up  and  moved  to 
the  small  village  of  Ernecourt,  situated  about  12  kilos  southeast  of 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139          75 


Cousances.  Remaining  here  for  only  a  few  days,  we  again  moved 
on  to  Aulnois,  where  the  remainder  of  the  time  in  this  area  was 
spent. 


THE  HOME  GOING 

Aulnois  may  have  been  a  disappointment  or  the  men  may  have 
thought  it  satisfactory.  Anyway,  when  the  Sanitary  Train  moved 
into  its  area  it  was  a  typical  example  of  many  of  the  other  villages 
that  they  had  found  over-run  with  dirt  and  French  children. 

It  was  not  long  after  their  cow-shed  and  hay-loft  billets  were 
made  as  comfortable  as  possible,  until  the  full  force  was  out  with 
brooms,  shovels  and  trucks,  and  soon  the  village  took  on  an  alto- 
gether different  appearance.  The  natives  no  doubt  imagined  that 
these  veterans  were  a  Brigade  of  White  Wings,  or  perhaps  some 
Convict  Labor  Batallion  and  perhaps  they  failed  to  appreciate  the 
work,  even  after  their  little  "burg"  was  transformed  into  a  decent 
place  in  which  to  dwell.  Well,  "san-ferrie-Anne,"  this  was  the 
Sanitary  Train,  the  110th,  at  that. 

Three  months  were  the  people  of  the  village  honored  with  the 
presence  of  this  hearty  crew,  and  ere  the  end  of  the  first  month, 
they  had  decided  that  the  Americans  were  not  so  barbarious  after 
all,  and  began  to  feel  content  as  the  nice  shining  francs  jingled  in 
their  jeans.  The  farmers  foresaw  the  necessity  of  doubling  the  next 
year's  crop  of  Pomm-de-terres,  and  the  breweries  of  Commercy  and 
Bar-le-Duc  wondered  at  the  enormous  consumption  of  their  bottled 
products. 

Still,  after  all,  the  stay  in  this  area  was  very  different  from 
what  those  on  furloughs  found  at  Aix-les-Bains,  who,  upon  return- 
ing, usually  suffered  an  attack  of  the  blues.  Each  company  had 
work  to  do.  The  Field  Hospitals  occupied  the  buildings  on  the  hill 
just  above  the  town  and  were  working  day  and  night.  The  am- 
bulance companies  were  evacuating  the  entire  Division,  and  the 
efficiency  with  which  both  performed  their  duties  was  known 
throughout  the  Divisional  area. 

There  are  a  few  things  that  will  tend  to  remind  the  men  of  the 
company  of  their  stay  here,  in  the  days  when  all  incidents  of  the 
A.  E.  F.  will  be  pleasant  memories.  Christmas,  and  the  dawning  of 
the  New  Year  were  celebrated  here.  These  events  are  made  more 
memorable  because  of  one  fact,  if  no  other;  the  cooks  went  out  of 
their  way  to  prepare  the  dishes  that,  standing  out  above  all  else  in 
the  Christmas  spirit  of  the  Yank,  are  to  him  ever  associated  with 
home,  a  full  stomach  and  celebrations.  Colonel  Wooley  left  the 


76          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


train  for  another  command,  and  Madam  Bon  left  her  establishment 
among  the  boys  and  was  married.  However,  she  continued  to  sell 
a  few  bottles  of  beer  after  closing  hours. 

It  was  while  here  in  Aulnois  that  the  Commanding  General  of 
the  A.  E.  F.,  accompanied  by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  reviewed  the 
Division.  And  last,  but  by  no  means  least,  the  long  expected  news 
reached  us  that  the  old  35th  Division  was  ordered  home.  Accord- 
ingly, though  sometime  later,  preparations  for  the  first  move  were 
began,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  9th  of  March,  the  men  bade  fare- 
well to  the  little  village,  and  climbed  aboard  boxcars  for  the  long 
ride  to  the  Le  Mans  Embarkation  Area. 


FROM  AULNOIS  TO  "CIVIES" 

It  was  with  a  willing  hand  and  a  happy  heart  that  we  prepared 
to  leave  Aulnois-Sous-Vertuzey,  where  we  had  spent  a  "weary 
waiting  period"  of  over  three  months,  and  when  the  evening  of 
March  9th  rolled  around,  we  were  all  packed  up  and  "rearin'  to  go." 
All  medical  property,  extra  clothing,  etc.,  had  been  turned  in,  so 
that  there  was  very  little  to  pack  except  the  office  records  and  our 
personal  belongings.  Of  this  we  were  duly  thankful. 

We  entrained  at  Lerouville  at  2  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
March  10th,  bound  for  St.  Corneille,  in  the  Le  Mans  area,  riding 
as  usual  in  box  cars.  The  trip  was  characteristic  of  French  train 
service — SLOW — in  fact  on  the  second  day  of  the  trip  we  only  made 
about  12  miles  the  whole  day.  We  finally  arrived  at  St.  Corneille, 
a  clean  little  French  village,  on  the  13th,  and  for  the  next  three 
weeks  "waited"  some  more.  The  only  part  of  the  company  who 
were  busy  was  the  office  force,  and  they  were  exceedingly  so,  for 
there  were  passenger  lists  to  be  made  out,  besides  innumerable  other 
rosters  and  reports.  Of  course  there  were  the  usual  physical  exam- 
inations, "cootie"  inspections,  and  a  "shot  in  the  arm,"  and  these 
things  helped  to  occupy  our  time. 

Our  next  lap  toward  home  started  on  April  5th,  and  the  next 
morning  found  us  at  the  immense  camp  of  St.  Nazaire,  our  Port  of 
Embarkation.  With  a  thrill  went  through  us  as  we  looked  out  onto 
the  ocean  again,  especially  when  we  knew  that  we  were  soon  to  cross 
the  gang-plank,  "the  bridge  whose  western  end  is  America!"  It 
must  be  said  here  that  St.  Nazaire  is  a  wonderfully  efficient  camp. 
For  instance,  each  kitchen  in  the  camp  can  feed  as  many  as  ten 
thousand  men  in  a  little  more  than  an  hour's  time.  At  this  camp  we 
were  examined  and  de-cootieized  some  more,  but  our  stay  was  short, 
and  on  April  12th  we  glued  our  eyes  on  the  bulletin  board,  which 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          77 


read  "110th  Sanitary  Train  embarks  at  11:30  a.  m.,  April  14th,  U. 
S.  S.  Antigone."  That  was  "the  thrill  that  comes  once  in  a  life- 
time." 

On  the  dock,  before  embarking,  we  were  treated  to  hot  choco- 
late, cookies  and  tobacco  by  the  "Y"  girls.  Then  the  time  that  we 
had  been  waiting  for  for  eleven  months  came,  and  we  crossed  the 
gang-plank  "Homeward  Bound."  On  account  of  storms  just  off  the 
coast,  our  start  was  delayed  until  3  a.  m.  on  April  16th,  and  when 
we  awoke  that  morning  we  were  almost  out  of  sight  of  land. 
Strange  to  say,  there  were  no  "heartaches"  when  "Sunny  France" 
faded  away  behind  us,  for  ahead  of  us  was  "God's  Country,"  the 
land  where  mothers,  fathers,  wives  and  sweethearts  were  waiting  for 
us.  That  first  day  out  was  a  memorable  one  for  most  of  us.  The 
sea  was  rough,  and  that  evening  no  one  doubted  but  that  every  fish 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  ship  went  to  sleep  with  his  hunger  entirely 
appeased.  Nothing  more  needs  to  be  said.  By  the  next  morning  the 
sea  had  calmed  down,  and  the  remainder  of  the  voyage  was  a  de- 
lightful one,  with  clear  skies  and  bright  sunshine.  The  "Y,"  Red 
Cross  and  Knights  of  Columbus  assisted  a  great  deal  in  making  the 
trip  a  pleasant  one,  by  distributing  fruit,  candy,  magazines  and 
books,  and  with  a  "movie"  show  every  evening.  The  men  were 
allowed  to  take  trips  down  into  the  engine  room,  which  was  indeed 
an  interesting  and  instructive  sight. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  April  27th,  we  steamed  up 
Hampton  Roads,  at  Newport  News,  Virginia,  and  at  about  10:30 
once  more  planted  our  feet  on  the  soil  of  "Uncle  Sam."  The  streets 
of  Newport  News  were  lined  with  people  as  we  marched  from  the 
dock  to  Camp  Stuart,  about  five  miles  away,  and  as  one  fellow  re- 
marked, "I  saw  more  good  looking  girls  on  that  march  than  during 
my  whole  time  in  France."  Here's  to  the  United  States  and  her 
people,  for  there's  no  others  like  them. 

The  greater  part  of  our  four  days  at  Camp  Stuart  was  spent  in 
getting  new  clothing,  for  every  soldier  was  newly  outfitted  from 
head  to  foot  before  he  left  that  camp.  So  it  was  a  spic  and  span 
company  that  boarded  the  train  on  Friday  afternoon,  May  2,  bound 
for  Camp  Funston,  our  demobilization  camp.  That  is,  there  were 
about  seventy  of  the  company  to  go  to  Camp  Funston,  for  the  com- 
pany was  separated  at  Camp  Stuart,  and  each  man  was  sent  to  the 
demobilization  camp  nearest  his  home.  The  homes  of  many  of  our 
replacements  were  in  the  East.  The  trip  across  the  states  in  that 
fast  American  train  was  an  enjoyable  one,  especially  so  because  of 
the  reception  given  us  by  the  people  at  the  cities  where  we  stopped. 
At  each  large  city  a  Red  Cross  canteen  entertained  us  with  home- 
made sandwiches,  coffee  and  pie.  Some  entertainment. 

Our  trip  across  the  States  took  us  via  West  Virginia,  Cincinnati, 
Indianapolis  and  Chicago.  Late  on  the  afternoon  of  Sunday,  May 


78          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


4th,  we  left  Chicago  for  Kansas  City,  and  it  was  then  that  our  hearts 
started  to  miss  a  beat  now  and  then,  for  we  were  getting  close  to 
home.  What  a  sight  greeted  our  eyes  as  the  train  drew  into  the 
station  at  Second  and  Washington,  Kansas  City,  Kansas.  The  station 
platform  was  a  solid  mass  of  people,  each  one  trying  to  pour  out 
a  larger  amount  of  "greeting"  than  anyone  else.  When  the  train 
finally  stopped  and  we  piled  out — well,  no  words  can  tell  what  that 
reunion  meant.  Each  fellow  and  his  folks  know.  We  stayed  at 
Kansas  City  about  four  hours,  and  during  that  time,  besides  visiting 
our  folks,  our  mothers  gave  us  a  delightful  breakfast  at  the  Masonic 
Temple,  with  a  dance  afterwards.  Then  we  went  on  to  Camp 
Funston,  stopping  several  hours  at  Topeka,  where  a  number  of  the 
men  lived. 

Our  stay  at  Funston  was  short,  but  strenuous.  We  were  not 
allowed  to  leave  our  barrack,  for  there  were  a  thousand  and  one 
different  papers,  it  seemed,  that  each  man  had  to  sign.  Then,  too, 
we  turned  in  our  pack,  and  all  other  equipment  except  our  clothing 
and  personal  effects. 

It  was  a  wonderful  feeling  when,  on  the  morning  of  May  9th, 
1919,  just  a  year  to  the  day  from  the  time  we  left  Camp  Doniphan 
for  overseas  service,  we  marched  up  to  the  Personnel  Office  to  re- 
ceive our  discharges.  We  could  hardly  believe  it  was  true.  We 
filed  in — soldiers,  and  a  few  minutes  later  came  out — civilians. 

We're  glad  we  served  our  country  when  she  needed  us,  and 
we're  glad  "it's  over  over  there."  It's  just  as  many  an  A.  E.  F.  man 
has  said,  "We  wouldn't  take  a  million  dollars  for  our  experiences 
over  there,  but  we  wouldn't  give  a  nickel  with  a  hole  in  it  for  any 
more  like  them." 


FICKLE  WOMEN 

It  either  was  Tom  Keene,  Henry  George  or  some  other  good 
nickel  seller  that  once  said,  "Women  thou  art  fickle  things,"  and  to 
come  right  down  to  it  the  old  boy  was  about  right.  Even  in  this 
war  we  have  found  that  the  fair  sex  is  not  overcoming  this  weak- 
ness, in  fact  woman  today  is  worse  than  she  was  yesterday. 

In  the  days  of  old  the  men  would  do  daring  acts  to  win  the 
hand  of  fair  lady.  If  he  went  on  a  crusade  and  brought  back  a 
string  of  dragon  heads  she  would  marry  him.  They  would  live 
happily  till  some  other  daredevil  comes  along  with  long  wavy  hair 
and  two  strings  of  dragon  heads.  Right  away  friend  wife  drops  a 
Sedlitz  powder  in  his  "vin-rouge."  A  few  days  finds  hubby  push- 
ing up  daisies  and  the  handsome  stranger  is  seen  playing  a  guitar 
under  the  widow's  window,  she  encouraging  him  by  dropping  roses. 

Now  today  he  pops  the  question,  she  says,  "But  we  won't  have 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          79 


the  knot  tied  till  you  come  back  from  the  war."  While  he  was 
putting  the  half  karat  on  that  special  finger  he  began  to  figure 
how  long  it  would  take  him  to  kill  off  the  population  of  Ger- 
many at  the  rate  of  five  thousand  a  day  and  get  back  to  the  ideal 
of  his  dreams.  He  goes  across  the  pond  and  receives  his  sweet 
weekly  letter  till  one  day  he  gets  one  that  makes  him  think  that 
he  is  opening  some  other  fellow's  mail. 

She  had  not  waited  to  see  how  many  "Dutch"  helmets  and 
medals  he  would  bring  home  but  had  gone  before  the  altar  with 
some  guy  who  couldn't  enlist  on  account  of  a  thick  head. 

It's  a  wonder  we  ever  won  the  war  with  such  moral  support 
as  this  coming  through  the  mail.  In  this  company  alone,  which 
has  a  strength  of  only  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  men,  eleven 
per  cent  were  jilted  in  this  way.  All  of  them  will  probably  not 
die  old  bachelors,  but  it  will  take  some  pretty  strong  bait  to  get 
these  fish  to  nibble  again. 


80  HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


ROSTER 


AMBULANCE  COMPANY  No.  2,  KANSAS  NATIONAL  GUARD. 
Lieutenants. 

Edwin  R.  Tenney,  538  Oakland  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Richard  F.   Speck,  718  Washington  Blvd Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Adam  E.  Adamson. 

Alpheus  J.   Bondurant Charleston,   Mo. 

Sergeants. 

Rowland,  Chas.  G.?  2304  Myrtle  Ave Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Adams,  James  A.,  1134  Troup  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Hadley,  Vernon  A.,  1241  Lafayette  St Lawrence,  Kans. 

Leady,  Roscoe  B.,  1005  Central  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Markley,    Algernon    Minneapolis,  Kans. 

Parsons,  John  D.,  2614  N.  13th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Thomas,   Chester   L..   823   N.   Jackson Topeka,  Kans. 

Falconer,  Clarence  E.,  535  Oakland  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Carson,  Edward  T.,  Aberdeen  Hotel Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Corporals. 

Hovey,  Clarence  E.,  1136  Rowland  Ave. Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Ward,  Clarence  S.,  609  Ohio  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Knight,  Roger  F.,  12  S.  Boeke  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Weirshing,   Guy  _ Sedan,  Kans. 

Dugan,  Rollo  C.,  606  E.  4th  St _ Ottawa,  Kans. 

Toler,  Roy  P.,  601  E.  9th  St Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Robinson,  William,  515  Quindaro  Blvd Kansas  City,  Kans. 

O'Dowd,  Hall  B.,  642  Everett  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Roach.  Norvin  M.,  536  Brooklyn  Ave Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Alleman,  Neal  D.,  1926  N.  15th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Christian,  John  S'.,  31st  and  Pacific Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Cooks. 

Toohey,  Paul  E.,  1232  Quindaro  Blvd Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Karbach,  Albert  R.,  531  Quindaro  Blvd Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Musicians. 

White,  Frederick  R.,  1131  Rowland  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Keck,  Kenneth  F.,  606  Isett  Ave Wapello,  Iowa 

Privates. 

Addison,  James  W.,  1938  N.  6th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Anderson,  Willard   C Partridge,  Kans. 

Anderson,    John    W.,    713    Lafayette Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Adams,  Ernest  T.,  636  Simpson  Ave _ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Bailey,   Clarence  E Ramona,  Okla. 

Barnes,  Lile  Joe,  City  Hospital Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Barnes,   Richard   A _ Ottawa,  Kans. 

Barnett,  Benjamin,  819  Southwest  Blvd Rosedale,  Kans. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          81 


Brown,  Kenneth  S.,  646  Oakland  Ave _ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Baum,  Earl  W.,  1932  Parallel  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Baum,  Eldon  E.,  1932  Parallel  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Blackwell,  Joseph  F.,  735  Nebraska  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Blazer,  Robert  T.,  46  N.  Tremont  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Bradbury,  Claude  L.,  1250  Sandusky  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Brennan,  Edward  W.,  538  Oakland  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Briggs,    Clarence,   609   Cornell   Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Briggs,  Junior,  609   Cornell  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Brown,  Guy,  240  N.   16th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Brunell,  Ferdinand  F.  C,  604  N.  6th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Buckles,  Doyle  L _ .Sedan,  Kans. 

Buckley,  Leslie  K.,   13  N.  Feree _ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Childs,  Wesley  M.,  2116  N.  10th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Carter,  Edward,  29  N.  Valley Kansas  City,  Kansas 

Church,  Romulus  B.,  1228  Ohio  St .....Lawrence,  Kans. 

Cline,  Ernest  R _ Tonganoxie,  Kans. 

Cole,  Charles   L.,   1604  Minnesota  Ave Kansas  City  Kans. 

Conquest,  Victor,   1903  N.  4th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Corbett,  Joseph  F.,  839  Ann  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Coyle,  Walter  E.,  866  Orville  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Crowley,  John  J.,  1233  Oread  St Lawrence,  Kans. 

Davidson,  Vernie,   1943  N.  llth  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Dennis,  Jesse  A.,  Ottawa  County Pomma,  Kans. 

De  Talent,  Edward  C,  1916  E.  34th  St... Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Finley,  Harold  H „ Turner,  Kans. 

Flagg,  Paul  E.,  1320  Ohio  Ave..... Lawrence,  Kans. 

Flesher,  Clarence  W..  1820  N.  9th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Foster,  James  R..  2828  Olive  St _ _ Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Gibson,  Walter  N.,  329  N.  Valley  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Gregar,  Mike  G.,  725  Lyons  St .Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Goff,  Melvin  W.,  808  Missouri  St _ Lawrence,  Kans. 

Hallquist,  Hugo  F.,   1721  Stewart  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Hamman.   Albert   E.,   2015   Hallack   S*t Enid,  Okla. 

Hart,  George  M.,  624  West  Main  St Enid,  Okla. 

Hendricks,  William  R.,  511  Armstrong  Ave _ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Hinze,  Edward  W.,  1020  Ford  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Houston,  Herbert,   120  S.   17th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Heuben,  Paul  T.,  1139  Ella  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Ise,  Frank  H.,   1125   Mississippi Lawrence,  Kans. 

Jackson,  Dale   B _ Burlington,  Kans. 

Jenkins,  Robert  C.,  216  N.  21st  St. Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Jenner,  Clifford,  235  N.  Mill  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Jessen,  Joseph  J.,  3528  S.  Halstead  St Chicago,  111. 

Johnson,   Andrew   _ _...McFarland,  Kans. 

Johnson,  Roy  E.,  918  Sandusky  Ave _ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Jones,  Jacobus  F.,  937   Minnesota  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Kocher,  Ernest  J.,  620  Broadway Jefferson  City,  Mo. 

Kemper.   Eugene  L Lakin,  Kans. 

Locke,  Lloyd  B Erie,  Kans. 

McClenahan,    John    L Miltonvale,  Kans. 

McNabb,    Fred    R Richmond,  Kans. 

Martin,  William  R.,   1315  Madison  S't Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Miller,   Samuel   C.,   410   "T"  St Atchison,  Kans. 

Minnear,  John  R.,  2520  Alden  St , Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Moore,  Chester,  714y2  N.  6th  St .-..,..,...„ Kansas  City,  Kans, 


82'         HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Murray,  Frank  A.,  407  N.  7th  St Kansas  Gty,  Kans. 

Nelson,  Oscar  F.,  1722  Stewart  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Oellerich,  Clarence  E.,  Penn  Hotel _ Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Parimore,  Roy  C.,  404  W.  7th  St Lamed,  Kans. 

Pedago,  Ellis,  1240  Central  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Piatt,  William  C.,  R.  F.  D.  No.  4 Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Pringle.  Kenneth  W.,   1334  Ohio  Ave Lawrence,  Kans. 

Putman,  Lawrence  A.,  806  Minn.  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Rebeck,  John  M.,  1806  N.  2nd  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Reid,  Alex.,  2013  Water  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Reid,  Roderick  V.,   1230  Tennessee Lawrence,  Kans. 

Rewerts,  Fred  C Garden  City,  Kans. 

Richmond,  Lloyd,  712  Ann  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Russell,  Thomas  C.,  710  Riverview  Ave Kansas  City  Kans. 

Schenke,  Harold  W.,  1208  N.  9th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Siebers,  Frank  A.,  736  Tauromee  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans, 

Sherrell,  Clarence  W.,  1232  Minn.  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Smith,  Glenn  E.,  701  W.  llth  St Coffeyville,  Kans. 

Stalcup,  Ernest  F Preston,  Kans. 

Stewart,  Chester  B.,  1846  N.  18th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Still,    Robert    P _ Tonganoxie,    Kans. 

S'tutes,  Chester  A.,  1860  Brighton  Ave Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Talmadge,  Abram  J.,  720  Garfield Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Van  Cleave,  Donald  W.,  714  Troup  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Vesper,  Harold  E.,  730  Garfield  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Walker,  John  W.  Jr.,  231  N.  16th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Wolf,    Jonathan    A Louisburg,  Kans. 

Weaverling,  Jacob  C.,  2843  Mercer  Ave „ .....Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Williams,  William  J.,  2832  Booth  Ave Rosedale,  Kans. 

LOSSES  BY  TRANSFER  OR  DISCHARGE  FROM  COMPANY. 

Captains. 

Siberts,  Paul  T Oklahoma  City,  Okla. 

Bates,  Bret  V Wheaton,  Minn. 

First  Lieutenants. 

Adamson,  Adam  J - Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Bondurant,   Alpheus  J _ - Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Tenney,  Edwin  R _ - Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Montieth,  Geo Hazleton,  N.  Dak. 

Shelton,  —    —  ~ - Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

Harwell,  Wm.  R - Shreveport,  La. 

Evers,  Wm.  P.  V - _ Illinois 

Sergeants,  First  Class. 

Rowland,  Chas.  G.,  2016  Lister  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Pringle,    Kenneth    W Alma,  Kans. 

Parsons,  John  D.,  1926  N.  15th  St .Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Sergeants. 

Leady,  Roscoe  B Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Markley,    Algernon    D Minneapolis,  Kans. 

Thomas,   Chester  L Topeka,  Kans. 

Falconer,   Clarence,  535   Oakland   Ave Kansas   City,  Kans. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139          83 


Carson,  Edward  T Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Childs,  Wesley  M Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Foster,  James   R _ _ .Lawrence,  Kans. 

Corporals. 

Conquest,   Victor   Kansas   City,   Kans. 

Johns,  Benjamin  P _ Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Cooks. 

Kemper,  Eugene  L Lakin,  Kans. 

Privates,  First  Class. 

Anderson,  John  W _ Kansas   City,  Kans. 

Anderson,    Willard    C.    ^ Lawrence,  Kans. 

Baum,  Earl  W „ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Brennan,    Edward    W ~ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Brown,   Kenneth   S _ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Buckles,   Doyle   L Sedan,  Kans. 

Casteel,   Jess  W _ Florence,   Wis. 

Church,  Romulus  B Lawrence,  Kans. 

Corbett,  Joseph  F ~ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Covington,  Van  D .Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Crawford,  Verne  F Croswell,  Mich. 

Dennis,    Jesse    A Ottawa,  Kans. 

Dotson,  Wm.  R _ Unknown 

Dugan,  Rollo  C Ottawa,  Kans. 

Flagg,  Paul  E *. Lawrence,  Kans. 

Flesher,  Clarence  W Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Goff,    Melvin   W Lawrence,  Kans. 

Hallquist,    Hugo    Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Hinze,  Edward  W ^ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Hovey,  Clarence  E Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Heuben,    Paul   T „ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Ise,    Frank    H Lawrence,  Kans. 

Jackson,  Dale  B Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Jenkins,  Robt.  C _ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Jesson,  Joseph  J „ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Johnson,  Andrew  _ * _ _ Alma,  Kans. 

Johnson,   Roy   E Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Jones,  Jacobus  E Clifton,  Term. 

McClenahan,  John  S Miltonvale,  Kans. 

Martin,  Wm.  R „ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Miller,    Samuel    C Atchison,  Kans. 

Myers,  Wilson  Tonganoxie,  Kans. 

Nelson,  Oscar  F Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Patrick,  Currie  F St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Pedago,  Ellis  Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Richmond,    Lloyd    Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Roach,  Norvin  M Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Sherrell,  Clarence  W _ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Stewart,   Chester  B Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Still,  Robert  A Tonganoxie,  Kans. 

Toler,    Roy   P _ .....Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Van   Cleave,   Donald   W Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Wolf,  Jonathan  A Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Woolery,  Clyde  F Unknown 

Whiles,  James  W Kansas  City,  Mo. 


84          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER  139 

MEN   WITH   AMBULANCE   COMPANY   139,   AT  TIME  OF 
DEMOBILIZATION. 

Captains. 

Speck,  Richard  T.    (Comdg.  Co.),  618  Oakland  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Hartman,  Ralph  C.,  Lake  Edge  Park Madison,  Wis. 

First  Lieutenant. 

Vardon,  Colin   C.,  225  Highland  Ave Detroit,  Mich. 

Sergeants,  First  Class. 

Briggs,   Junior,  609    Cornell   Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Knight,  Roger  F.,  12  S.  Boeke  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Mess  Sergeant. 

Hadley,   Vernon   A Ridgefarm,    111. 

Sergeants. 

Adams,  James  A.,    1134  Troup   Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Alleman,   Neal  D.,  1926  N.   15th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Wiershing,  Guy  Sedan,  Kans. 

Hart,  George  M.,  611  N.  Grand  St Enid,  Okla. 

Stalcup,  Ernest  F.,  417  E.  llth  St Hutchinson,  Kans. 

Christian,  John  W.,  122  S.  Hicks  St Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

Hickam,  Clinton  J _ _ , Freedom,  Ind. 

Bailey,   Clarence  E Ramona,   Okla. 

Rewerts,  Fred  C. Garden   City,  Kans. 

Talmadge,   Abram   J.,   720   Garfield   Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Corporals. 

O'Dowd,  Benjamin  H.,  642  Everett  Ave. Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Barnes,   Richard   A Ottawa,  Kans. 

Finley,   Harold  H _ Turner,  Kans. 

Ellis,    Clark   _ Glenville,   W.   Va. 

Jensen,  Henry  M Concordia,  Kans. 

Stutes,  Chester  A.,  1860  Brighton  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Cooks. 

Grotty,  John  J.,  1209  Paseo Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Carter,  Edward,  1107  Riverview  Ave .Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Locke,  Lloyd  B Erie,  Kans. 

Mechanic. 

Meinberg,  Edwin  J.,  2006-A  Russell  Ave. St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Wagoners. 

Bellows,  Frank  E ^ Fultonville,  New  York 

Bradbury,  Claude  L.,  1250  Sandusky  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Briggs,  Clarence,  609  Cornell  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Brunell,  Ferdinand  F.  C.,  401^  N.  6th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Ely,  Clarence  G Midlothian,  Texas 

Feehan,  Walter  J.,  706  Frisco  Ave Monett,  Mo. 

Kocher,  Ernest  J.,  620  Broadway   St Jefferson   City,  Mo. 

Lottner,  August,  907  Townsend  Ave Detroit,   Mich. 


HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER    139          85 


McNabb,  Fred   R Richmond,  Kans. 

Putman,  Lawrence  A.,  care  of  Harold  E.  Vesper,  720  Garfield   Ave. 

Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Reid,  Alex,  2040  Walnut  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Robinson,  William  0.,  515  Quindaro  Blvd Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Smith,  Glen  E Van  Buren,  Ark. 

Vesper,   Harold    E.,    730    Garfield   Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Ward,  Clarence  S.,  609  Ohio  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Weaverling,  Jacob  C.,  2843  Mercier  Ave Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Privates,  First   Class. 

Adams,   Ernest   T.,  636   Simpson  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Addison,  James  W.,   1938  N.  6th  S't ^ Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Barbour,   Dewey   T * Houston,   Pa. 

Barnes,   Joe,    K.    C.    General   Hospital,   24th   and    Cherry,   Kansas    City,   Mo. 

Brown,  Guy  B.,  240  N.  16th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Cataldi,  Angelo,   604  Scott   St Wilmington,   Del. 

Coleman,  James  W Le  Sueur,  Minn. 

Coyle,  Walter  E.,  866  Orville  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Crowley,  George  G.,  1319  E.  Market  St Akron,  Ohio 

DeTalent,  Edward  C.,  1915  E.  34th  St Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Downing,  Fay  A Island  Falls,  Maine 

Houston,  Herbert  S.,  120  S.  17th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Jones,  Arthur  E..  394  W.  Euclid  Ave Detroit,  Mich. 

Keck,  Kenneth  F Wapello,  Iowa 

McCarthy,  Bernard  J.,  1514  W.  Benton  Place Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Moore,  Chester,  610  N.  6th  S't Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Murray,  Frank   H.,  404  N.   7th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Oellerich,  Clarence  G.,  1425  Thurston  Ave Racine,  Wis. 

Rebeck,  John  M.,  1807  N.  2nd  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Saul.  Parker  E R.  F.  D.,  Ava,  111. 

Schenke,   Harold   W.,   712   Orville   Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Walker,  John  W.  Jr.,  203  N.  14th  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Privates. 

Allen,  Frank  M _ Oxford,  Mich. 

Altman,  William  R Knox,  Pa. 

Armbrustmacher,   William  J Fowler,   Mich. 

Barnett,  Benjamin,  819  Southwest  Blvd Rosedale,   Kans. 

Barris,  Allen  L Dougherty,   Okla. 

Blackwell,  Joseph  F.,  735  Nebraska  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Blaker,  Charles  F.,  R.  F.  D.  2 Butler,  Ind. 

Blandford,  Joseph   J.,   R.   R.   1 Morganfield,  Ky. 

Blazer,  Robert  T.,  46  N.  Tremont  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Brogan,  Lester  A.,  705  N.  Spring  St St.  John,  Mich. 

Buckley,  Lee  E.,  13  N.  Ferree  S't Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Cannon,  Francis  P.,  1260  Lyell  Ave West  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Cline,  Ernest  R Tonganoxie,  Kans. 

Cole,   Charles   R.,    1604   Minnesota   Ave Kansas   City,  Kans. 

Crane,   Charlie,    10   N.   Main   St Ft.   Scott,  Kans. 

Crowley,  John  J.,  2113y2-B  W.  16th  St Los  Angeles,  Calif. 

Daley,  Albert   J.,  75   Hazel   Ave Wilkes  Barre,   Pa. 

Davidson,  Vernie  A.,  1943  N.  llth  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Dolak,  Andrew  J.,  701   E.   Ridge  St Lansford,   Pa. 

Duffy,  Dennis,  331   W.   4th   St Hazelton,  Pa. 

Eakin,  Laster  E.,  616  Buffalo  St Franklin,  Pa. 


86          HISTORY  OF  AMBULANCE  COMPANY  NUMBER   139 


Evans,  John  E.,  East  Hazard  St Summithill,  Pa. 

Evert,  Howard  C,  340  W.  4th  St Hazelton,  Pa. 

Feeney,  John  P.,  10010  Pamalee  Ave.,  N.  E Cleveland,  Ohio 

Feinberg,  Abraham  H.,   1238  Chestnut  St Wilmington,   Del. 

Fisher,  John  J.,   114   Pollard  St Detroit,   Mich. 

Fisher,  Louis  J.,  416  N.  10th  St _ Reading,  Pa. 

Fowler,  Harry  W. _ _ _ Portage,  Pa. 

Freeman,  Garland,  1317  Louisiana  St Little  Rock,  Ark. 

Fulmer,  John  R Cape,  South  Carolina 

Gallagher,   Cornelius  A Parker's  Landing,   Pa. 

Gibson,  Walter  N.,  562  Head  St Esquimalt,  Victoria,  B.  C. 

Giorgi,  Auguste  Mentana,  Prov.  Rome,  Italy 

Gregar,  Mike  G.,  725   Lyons  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Harriston,   Michael,  5707   Central  Ave Cleveland,   Ohio 

Heidel,  Ernest  P Florence,  Wis. 

Hendricks,  William  R.,  511  Armstrong  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Hess,  Walter  F.,  219  Lauderburn  Ave Weatherly,  Pa. 

James,  Vaughn  F.,  74  S.   Martha  Ave _ Akron,  Ohio 

Karbach,  Albert  R.,  532  Quindaro  Blvd Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Kletecka,   Edward  Wakita,  Okla. 

Kline,  Benjamin  W.  Jr.,  209  N.   llth  St Allentown,  Pa. 

Kuntz,  Thomas  G „ » „ Transfer,   Pa. 

Lancaster,  John  E ^ Gilmore,  Maryland 

Lebeck,  Walter,  38  Stoner  St River  Rouge,  Mich. 

Lulow,  Charlie  _ Rushville,  Neb. 

Lutt,  Elmer  F Niobara,  Neb. 

McCormick,  Stephen  F.,  1360  E.  Market  S't Akron,  Ohio 

McDonald,  James  R _ Brookville,  Ind. 

McKain,  Jess  W , _ _ Minneapolis,  Kans. 

Mukansky  Grigory,  449  3rd  St Milwaukee,  Wis. 

Murphy,  Clarence  T.  S.,  216  W.  Pine  St Wichita,  Kans. 

Nicholson,  Paul  R.,  410  Elm  St Grove  City,  Pa. 

Peterson,  William  J.,  19  S.  llth  St Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Piatt,  William  C Erie,  Kans. 

Siebers,  Frank  A.,  736  Tauromee  Ave Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Tinklepaugh,  James  D.,  606  Tauromee  Ave Kansas  City,    Kans. 

Toohey,  Paul  A.,  1232  Quindaro  Blvd Kansas  City,  Kans. 

Truede,  John,  514  N.  Front  St '.....Camden,  New  Jersey 

Williams,  William  J.,  3832  Booth  St Rosedale,  Kans. 

Wise,  Theodore  T.,  545  Ann  Ave. : Kansas  City,  Kans. 


Date  Due 


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